The Child in the Playground
by GiorgiaKerr
Summary: Final chapter up! BB. No smut, just more FLUFF than you can poke a stick at. Seriously. You couldn't poke a stick at it if you tried. Trust me, I've tried.
1. The Child in the Playground

**Spoilers: **Not as of yet.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, yadda, yadda, yadda.

**Author's Note:** Hmm, another chapter story in the making, I think. Think I should continue? This one should be better than the last. It actually has a plot! Well, not yet, but it will. This one actually involves a case...

* * *

"Angela, I wan- Wait, where did she go?" Brennan turned in a full circle, searching the upper and lower platforms for her friend.

"I think she and Hodgins just went to Angela's office," Zach said, without looking up from his chart, completely oblivious to the innuendo in his statement.

Brennan was equally oblivious, however, and shot a quick glance at Zach, before rushing down the steps to find Angela. Booth wanted the picture of the dead boy as soon as possible, and she did, too.

She rounded the corner to Angela's office, stopping in her tracks when she saw Angela in a very compromising position with Hodgins. She hid a smile, and left as if she hadn't seen anything. It was unethical, and completely inappropriate for the workplace, but she liked that Angela was finally with someone who loved her, someone stable. _All too stable apparently_.

She was still stifling a smile, lost in thought, when she smacked right into someone, knocking her back a few steps. The man who had knocked her over reacted immediately, grabbing her by her waist, so she didn't fall over completely, pulling her against him. He smiled.

She muttered in thanks, and pulled herself away from him as if nothing had happened, walking away dignifiedly. His face fell.

Across the lab, Booth stood on the platform, wondering where Brennan was. Figuring she'd gone to see Angela, he leaned a haunch against one of the cold, metal tables and waited. Finally, he saw Bones round the corner, and he smiled in anticipation.

Then _smack_, she ran into a man, nearly falling flat. That is, until he grabbed her waist. Booth stood up straight, arms tensely at his sides. He saw the desire in the man's eyes, and he clenched his jaw, just about ready to show the man some serious violence. When he saw her pull away hastily from the man's chest and walk away unaffected, he relaxed, and smiled smugly, resting back onto the table.

_She's mine, Buddy_, he thought.

"Booth, what are you doing here so early? I though you were-" she noticed his expression. "Why are you grinning? You do know you look like an imbecile, grinning at nothing."

"I'm not grinning at 'nothing', Bones," he retorted teasingly.

So he was playing that game. "Fine, Booth, I give up, why are you grinning?" She sighed and put one hand on her hip, distracting him ever so slightly.

"I'm just happy to see you, is all, Bones. Can't a man be happy to see his partner?" He feigned innocence, looking as happy as he could. He'd won this time.

Realizing her situation, she decided to end the game before he won by too much, and walked down the platform to the remains that Booth was there to enquire about.

"So far, I've only had time to look over the skull. I did that first, so I could give it to Angela," she explained. "These are the remains of a male Caucasoid. The skull shows serious signs of brutality. Other than that, as far as the skull goes, there are no other distinguishing markers to help us."

"So: White male," he said. "That's all you got. White male?"

She looked at him sternly. "Yes, Booth, _definitively_, that's all I have. I've only had the remains for twelve hours, and it took ten just to put the skull back together." She looked at him more harshly this time.

"Okay, I'm sorry! It's just that I've got Cullen _and_ the press riding me about this one, Bones. It isn't every day that you find a set of _human remains_ buried in a kindergarten playground, you know."

He looked at her, bracing himself. "How old?"

"Judging by the size of the femur, he was three foot four. About five years old." _Just older than Parker_, she thought, though she didn't dare say it. She knew Booth would be forcing himself not to think of Parker on this case, and she certainly didn't want to be the one to bring it up.

She didn't want to think of Parker either. She'd grown to adore that little boy. Whether it was the fact that he was a living, breathing window into the world of Booth, or that she simply liked spending time with him, she didn't know.

But she knew that both she and Booth would undo if they connected this case to Parker in any way. They probably wouldn't even mention him until the case was solved and closed and the little boy's body put to rest.

"Brennan? You in there?" Snapping out of her reverie, she spun to meet the worried, curious eyes of Angela and Booth.

"Yes, Angela, I'm fine," she lied flatly, as she had done so many times.

Angela decided to ignore Brennan's lie, knowing she wouldn't get anywhere by pushing. "Do you have the skull for me?"

Brennan lifted the skull off the lab table, handing it gently to Angela. "It's so small," Angela stated miserably, frowning slightly then leaving the platform.

Booth winced slightly. Of course he'd noticed how small it was, it was impossible not to, but Angela had _said_ it. Saying it made it _real_; made it so he couldn't tell himself that it was only _him_ seeing the all-too-tiny face on top of that skull.

He looked at Bones. She was studying the third rib, giving it close consideration. He wondered if she was thinking like he was, studying this body. _This baby boy_. He doubted it. He knew it_ affected_ her as much. But he knew that because of this, she wasn't thinking about this child like he was. She couldn't.

This had annoyed him at first. She'd seem distant, and unfeeling while studying bones, and this had aggravated the hell out of him. How could she be so composed when inside he was fuming, seething?

He soon learned, though, that this was why she was so good at her job. She cared _too much_ about these people to let her emotions get the better of her. He was still contemplating this when she turned to him with a terrifying warning in her look that he knew all too well.

_Oh, God, here it comes,_ he thought.


	2. Kicked?

**Spoilers: **None

**Disclaimer: **Eh.

**Author's Note:** I really should be going to bed right now. But I can't be bothered. I'll regret it in the morning, though. I can't continue if you guys don't review, so if you'd like to read more...Please review!

* * *

"Booth. This rib is fractured in two places. See?" She held it up to the light, shoving the rib in his face.

"Geez, Bones, not so close, okay?" He pushed her arm away. Looking at her and noticing her slightly hurt expression he added, "I trust you with this...stuff. You're the forensic anthropologist, not me, remember?"

She seemed slightly confused by his last remark, but decided to let it go so she could finish telling him about what she'd actually found. "Zach?" she called. He came over faster than Booth would have though possible for a kid of his size.

"Yes, Doctor Brennan?"

"Look here. See; these small fracture marks on the bone? And note these indentations, here, too." She was pointing at the fourth and fifth ribs, showing Zach something Booth couldn't even begin to comprehend. Earlier in their relationship, he hadn't bothered to even try to follow her.

But now, he would pay attention. _To her_. He loved to watch her work. There were four things she would do, that would warn him.

She would frown: she had just noticed something new; an anomaly.

Then her eyes would glaze over: she was thinking about something, working on a theory. Then, he could see the genius-fuelled gears turning in her head, working something over; tossing out one possibility after another.

She'd smile: she'd figured something out.

When she inhaled too deeply: she was about to tell Booth something she didn't want to. Something he didn't want to hear. She was warning him.

Mostly, he just wanted an excuse. He could lie to himself, to Bones, and even to Angela that he was simply trying to learn more about the skeletal system, or the various other things that Bones' work entailed, but he could only ever fool one of them: Bones.

Sometimes she would look at a bone so intensely that he was scared to think what would happen if she looked at_ him_ like that. He was sure she'd see something he didn't want her to. Something _very_ un-partner-like.

But she never did.

_And probably never will_, he thought.

"Zach. What is the cause of these fractures?" Always the teacher, Brennan looked at Zach expectantly.

"Judging from the pattern, and the range of the fracture wounds, I'd say this boy was kicked in the ribs. Probably very hard." He shot a glance at Booth, looking for acknowledgment. Booth winced again.

Zach may not have been able to connect with the 'real world', but he certainly wanted to connect with Booth. His only male friend was Hodgins. And that wasn't saying much.

"Very good, Zach. But how would you explain these marks here, on the posterior side of the ribcage?" Zach took the sample she was holding and looked at it briefly.

"The victim was being kicked, violently, and he rolled from his back onto his...left side, to protect himself. He was in the fetal position, so he was being...wait. He wasn't being kicked at all."

"What?" Booth was confused. Squints changed their minds too much.

"The placement of the fracture marks here and...here," he shoved the sample in Booth's face.

"Would you two quit doing that? I'm not blind!"

Zach was dismissive. "Sorry. But the placement suggests that the victim was on his side, curled up, and the blows were delivered from above."

Booth looked at Brennan. "He was stomped," she stated simply. Booth grimaced once more. He had a horrible feeling he would be doing a lot more than this later. He knew he would get home and be an emotional wreck. Of course, he would never admit this. He liked people to think he was strong.

He needed people to think he was strong; it was his job.

He swallowed thickly. "Stomped," he said as much for his benefit as for confirmation he was hearing correctly. "Someone..._stomped..._a _five year old boy?_ Jesus Christ." He turned and walked off the platform.

"Booth! Wa - Zach, take over here, I'm...I'll be back soon. Examine the rest of the ribcage and the sternum."

"Yes, Doctor Brennan." He immediately went to work.

Brennan took quick note of what Zach was doing and went after Booth. She found him in her office, looking through the boy's all-too-small file.

"Booth?" she said, unsure.

"Hey, sorry, it's just...You know, I should go. I have a lot to do. Do you know where Angela is? I need that ID _soon_." He looked around, pretending to search for Angela, avoiding Bones' eyes.

Brennan was standing mute, looking around like he was. "Um, yeah, she's in her office. She's probably sketching him as we speak."

"Okay. Well." And uncomfortable silence had fallen in the room. "I'll see you later, Bones." He turned to leave.

"Booth?" she called him back looking him directly in the eyes. "We'll get him."


	3. The Magnificent Disapperaing Booth

**Spoilers: **None.

**Disclaimer: **If I did own the show, _these things would have happened already_!

**Author's Note: **Third chapter! I'm getting better with my speech! There are conversations! With actual participants!! _Anyway_, getting a little too excited there. Breathes. I think I'll just go get back in my box...

* * *

Booth walked quickly to Angela's office, leaving a mystified Brennan standing alone in her office, wondering what to do next. She was tempted to help Zach, but reminded herself that Zach was an Anthropologist, now. She couldn't baby him any longer. It wasn't her place to anymore. 

In a strange way she missed that. She liked having Zach as her student, and everyone knew he liked being her student. After all, there was no one in the world better to learn from than _the_ Doctor Temperance Brennan. But she missed teaching Zach.

It wasn't so much that she liked telling him what to do, having power over him, but she liked the way it felt to have someone dependant on you, to know that what you do and say impacts _them_ as well as you. Simply put, she liked that there was someone else to whom she mattered.

She wondered briefly if that's the way parents feel about their children, but quickly pushed the though away. She would go with Booth. She needed to get out of the lab anyway: breathe some fresh air. As fresh as the air in a city like D.C. could get, anyway.

She chuckled at this, confusing a few interns walking past her office to the lounge. Ignoring this, she headed down to Angela's office.

"Hey, Ange, Booth here?" she searched the office for him.

"Hi, Brennan. And no, he just left. I thought he would have told you." She gave Brennan a quizzical look.

"Oh. No, he didn't..." She wasn't paying any attention at all the Angela anymore. She was too busy wondering whether or not to try and find Booth.

"Did you two have a fight or something? He wasn't the happiest of campers earlier...? And you aren't too charming, yourself." She raised her eyebrows. Brennan looked at her, blank.

"Uh. No. If you see him, tell him I was looking for him?" she said distantly, thinking of something else.

"Sure, Sweetie." _One track mind_, she sang inwardly, smirking to herself.

Brennan left Angela's office wondering why Booth had taken off so quickly. She swiped her card as she mounted the platform where Zach was onto studying the clavicle, jumping at the beep, confusing herself. Why was she so jumpy all of a sudden? Normally she was impenetrable, and she heard that beep at least seventy times a day.

"Zach." She didn't need to ask. Zach was a top student, and a brilliant anthropologist already.

"Yes, Doctor Brennan. I found more fractures on _all_ the ribs on the right-hand side, and a hairline fracture on the left clavicle." He pointed to the bones as he spoke, showing her what he'd found. "Consistent with our earlier findings, Doctor Brennan."

"Yes, Zach, good work. Um, I want you to take this one by yourself. Do you think you can do it?"

Zach looked ecstatic. "Yes, Doctor Brennan! I'll give you a full report tomorrow morning!" He went to work immediately.

Hodgins, who was on the other side of the platform with Cam, looked up at Zach. "No one should get _that_ excited about human remains. Especially him. Zach adds this extra creepiness to it." He looked over at Zach like he was studying him, tilting his head sideways and narrowing his eyes.

Cam looked at Hodgins and laughed. "Indeed he does. But, you know, if you continue to stare at him like that, he won't be the only creepy one here." She patted him on the shoulder and walked away, leaving him slightly worried as Angela came up onto the platform.

"Doctor Saroyan!" Brennan chased her across the lab. Cam turned around.

"Doctor Brennan?" She raised her eyebrows at Brennan's apprehensive look.

She looked about nervously. She wasn't used to this kind of conversation. In fact, she wasn't used to conversation at all. Except with Booth...

"Um. Do you...I was...Do you know where Booth is?"

"No, Brennan. Did you automatically assume that because Seel-"

"No!" Brennan said all too quickly. "I was just looking for him. He's disappeared. I mean, not literally, because that is physically imposs-"

It was Cam's turn to interrupt, "Yes, Doctor Brennan. And no, I haven't seen Booth all day. If I see him, I'll tell him you're looking." She turned and left swiftly, avoiding further conversation with Brennan.

Brennan frowned. It wasn't like Booth to just leave without telling her. Or inviting her to go with him. She honestly wasn't sure which had bothered her more. She stood in the middle of the ground floor of the Jeffersonian, arms crossed, frowning.

She finally made up her mind and ran up the stairs to her office. She took off her blue lab coat, grabbed her phone and tugged her jacket on in a matter of seconds.

She walked back down the stairs more slowly, so as not to arouse suspicion, and made sure Zach was doing the right thing, then left quietly.

Hodgins looked at Angela. "Where's _she_ going?"

* * *

Ahh, the question on everybody's mind... 


	4. The Search

**Spoilers: **None.

**Disclaimer: **I don't like these.

**Author's Note: **I don't know how good this chapter is...I'm not sure about it, myself. Oh well, you tell me if It's any good, after all, I'm writing for you, not me! Enjoy!

* * *

Brennan got in her car and sat, hands still on her seat-belt. She wondered whether or not she should do this; go looking for Booth. He would only be in one of three places, at this time of day, anyway: his office, questioning somone in an interrogation room or somewhere with food. 

She picked up her phone, trying to decide. She phoned Booth, and let it ring for the better part of a minute. He wasn't at the diner, then. He was probably with a suspect.

She started up the car. It was worth it. _He_ was worth it.

As she drove, she fiddled with the radio. She couldn't find anything worth listening to, so she turned it off. She turned it back on again. She was anxious.

It startled her when her phone started ringing. _Who the...?_

"Hey, Bren."

"Oh, Angela, hi."

"You left my office in such a rush, and then I came to look for you and you were going so fast I don't think I could have stopped you with a wrecking ball." This reference confused Brennan, and she thought about it, forgetting the phone to her ear.

"Bren, Sweetie, you there?" Angela was beginning to worry about her friend.

"Yeah. I'm here. I was just thinking." She was spacing out again, concentrating on where she was going to go first.

"Well, _part_ of you is there, but I think it might be only the physical part."

This caught Brennan's attention. "What? Angela, it's physically imposs-"

"Brennan." She cut off her friend. "It's a figure of speech." She rolled her eyes at her friend's lack of comprehension. "Where _are_ you, anyway?" She figured if Brennan had been distracted by earlier thoughts she would be more likely to answer.

"In the car. I'm on my way to Booth's office." True enough.

"Oh. Tell him hi for me, will you?" she said brightly. Brennan was completely confused now. She wasn't sure why Angela had given up so easily, but she knew it wasn't good. Angela didn't give up like that.

"Sure, Ange." But she sure as hell didn't want to find out. She hung up, thinking about the conversation. Why had Angela been so...weak? No, weak wasn't the right word. Suspicious was a better word.

Brennan parked outside his office, and walked in. The 'guy at the desk', Nick, recognized her. "Dr. Brennan! Are you looking for Agent Booth? Because he hasn't been here since this morning..."

"Oh. Are you sure, because he left about half an hour ago, so he should be here by now." She looked at him somewhat condescendingly.

He was slightly offended. "Yes, Dr. Brennan, I'm sure. I've been here this whole time. He's not here. And hasn't been for two hours. I know everything that goes on here. And I'm good at my job."

She looked at the grey haired man, and he was staring back, slightly upset. She decided to take the easy road. "I'm sorry. It's just, Booth left in a hurry, and..." - _I'm worried about him _- "I have something very important to tell him." She looked at his curious face. "About the case. A suspect." She was a terrible liar.

In fact, the only time she'd ever found it easy to lie was in Vegas, with Booth. Though, the more she thought about it, the more she saw that she wasn't really lying. She was making excuses. Excuses to be close to him, to touch him in ways she never could have as Bones, and to flirt with him.

She'd liked that _far_ too much. She missed Roxie _far_ too much.

Snapping back out of it, she politely excused herself, said a short thank you to Nick and left the FBI building.

_Where could he be?_ She wasn't sure where to try next. She was sure he would be there. If he didn't have his phone on...

She started up her car again. She knew where he was.


	5. Help Me

**Spoilers: **None...But I may be wrong, so hit me if I have any...

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, yeah, what she said...

**Author's Note: **Hmm, well, next chapter, long chapter...In this chapter Bren...No. I have _no_ idea where this story is going. You'll just have to read and find out. But I can't write unless you review! I don't want to continue if ya'll don't like it. That would just be self-centred.I'm not sure whether to end it here, or find the baby-murdering SOB...Opinions will be taken on board most genially. Enjoy!

* * *

She drove straight there, ignoring all the buildings and people she passed on the way. She needed to be there. She needed to be with Booth. 

As she drove, she was surprised that her mind didn't wander at all. That wasn't like her, and made her slightly uncomfortable. All she could think about was Booth. She wasn't used to focusing on one thing at a time, unless it was her work.

But Booth _was_ her work. At least, he was related to her work. She couldn't do her job without him; they both knew this, but she also knew she was only trying to make sense of things. Of how she felt, of why she was so focused on Booth.

Angela had always told her that if you care for someone enough, nothing regarding them is rational. She didn't want to, but she was starting to believe her.

Brennan was worried about Booth. He wasn't the type of guy who just _left_ like he had. No. Booth would have invited her to go with him, or at the very least say goodbye to her before he left. What was even worse was that he wasn't at work. And he hadn't been since she saw him.

This couldn't be a good sign.

She subconsciously pulled up in front of the building and parked her car. She hadn't realized how used to the drive she was, even though she was never the one who drove. She smile against her will at this thought. The driving was just so..._Booth_.

She got out of the car quickly, still in a sort of daze, not allowing herself the luxury of taking her time. She found herself almost running to the elevator, and slowed down. If he was here, which she was certain her was, he wouldn't be leaving any time soon. And even if he did, she'd see him do so anyway.

This made her feel a little better, as did simply being _in_ the building. _His building_. She was on her way to see him, and this caused her an awkward amount of comfort. She really wasn't used to feeling this way about anyone.

She was happy to see that the elevator had just opened across the foyer. She hurried in just as an old man was coming out. She nodded her head at him, and he tipped his hat: an old grey and navy green fedora. It reminded her of Vegas, and she smiled again as the doors closed.

The elevator took way too long. She needed to get there faster. But she knew that whether the elevator was going to the first floor or the twelfth it would still take too long. Still, knowing this didn't quell her impatience at all.

She watched the numbers burn a bright red, teasing her: will they, won't they, will they, won't they? The number she had been waiting for glowed.

_They will_.

She stepped out onto his floor, like she'd done so many times. But this time was slightly different. She wasn't there _with_ him; his hand was not on her back like it usually was. This made her feel even more awkward, both for intruding, and for him not being there, touching her.

She reached his door and knocked, barely able to think. She wasn't nervous. Well, she was, but not for any good reason. She was nervous for Booth. For what it was that made him leave without saying a thing, so abruptly.

And during this case...

She heard rustling inside, and a hefty _thud_, followed by a deep groan, then finally the lock being drawn on the other side of the door. She took a breath and held it.

At the first sight of Booth her breath gushed out.

He was standing before her, in bare feet, pair of light blue cotton pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He looked...damn good. But this wasn't what caught her attention. No.

Booth's eyes were red, as if he hadn't slept for days, but his cheeks were flushed. And wet.

He'd been crying.

And a lot, by the looks of it. Brennan had an overwhelming urge to hug him, but she stopped herself. Maybe he didn't need that right now.

Brennan felt for him. She wanted to help him.

"Booth." She looked into his red eyes, hoping he saw the understanding she was trying to convey, the empathy she was feeling for him.

He didn't speak, only moved aside in invitation. As she went inside he quietly closed the door behind her. When she turned to face him, he looked at her imploringly. He didn't want to talk right now, that would make him crack. Especially with her there. She made him want to talk about it, but he couldn't put this all on her.

He moved across the room and sat down on the couch, smiling at her slightly, welcoming her to do the same. Brennan looked around the room for a few seconds, unsure, and then moved over to where Booth was sitting.

He was surprised that she sat so close to him. Normally it was like there was an invisible wall between the two: A Safe Distance. But now she sat so that their thighs were touching, and grabbed his hand.

He placed his free hand over hers, holding it securely between both hands, seeking comfort in it; in her. Finally, she looked at him.

A tear was falling down his cheek, betraying his silence. He turned to her, knowing what she knew: that he couldn't handle it. At least, not on his own. _Not without her_.

They sat on his couch like this for what seemed like the longest time, staring at each other; reading each other. Then, looking away, he spoke.

"P..." - he took a deep, shuddering breath - "Parker." His voice cracked, and Brennan found herself again wanting to hold him, like a child, as tears formed in his beautiful eyes.

She looked at him solemnly. "I know." She nodded ever so slightly, forcing back her tears, before laying her head on his shoulder. The last thing that would help him right now would be for her to cry. Every time the tears came too close, she would tell herself, _For Booth_. It was the only thing that seemed to work.

Booth tried to speak, his voice thick with tears. "I...Bones, I ca-If he-" As he continued to choke over his words, she raised her head so she could look into his eyes.

"No, Booth. _No_. Don't think about that. He's okay, Booth. Look at me." Booth shut his eyes tightly before looking at her, calming himself, praying. The next thing she said shocked them both.

"I...I love Parker, Booth. I-_we_ will never let him get hurt like that. Never, Booth." She was shocked by what she'd just confessed, but she didn't flinch, or shy away like he thought she would. She continued to look him in the eyes, to tell him she wasn't lying. He knew she wasn't.

"Bones, if I lost him..." he sobbed. Brennan didn't want him to think that way. _She _didn't want to think that way. She quickly shook her head.

"Booth. _Booth_." She finally caught his distant gaze. "Do you trust me?"

"What?" He looked quizzically at her from under tensed brows. Her look told him what he needed to know; it also told him that she needed him to respond. "Yes, Temperance, I trust you."

"Good. Now listen to me: Parker is okay. He's with Rebecca." She emphasized each word, like she was talking to a child. She had found, working with Booth, that people who are grieving or emotional are not thinking straight; logically. Booth was no different. Neither was she.

Booth nodded ever so slightly, dipping his head to let his tears fall, unseen, onto their entwined hands. She leaned her head against his shoulder again, closing her eyes to trap the tears.

This simple gesture from her made him lose all logic and sense of chivalry, and he pulled her onto his lap swiftly, locking his arms around her and pushing his damp face into her hair, still sobbing lightly.

Brennan was stunned by this display but didn't say anything. If this is what he needed, so be it. She knew that what he needed was understanding, and she could give that to him. She understood what he was thinking _of, _even if she couldn't comprehend the extent of his pain. She did love Parker, but Booth...He was Booth's _son_.

Closing her eyes again, and taking a deep breath, she snuggled into him, throwing all reason and caution to the wind.


	6. The Couch

**Spoilers: **None. Though there _is_ one episode reference, but I don't know the name of the episode.

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, yeah.

**Author's Note: **'Sleepfulness' is not a word, just so you know. But it works, so...FLUFF alert! I'm personally very proud of this chapter, so tell me what you think!

* * *

Brennan took a deep breath, somewhere between sleep and consciousness. She snuggled down into the warmth that lay beside her; it felt damn good. 

Booth was only half conscious when he felt moving beside him. Subconsciously, he tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Eyes still closed in the daze of sleepfulness, she hooked her leg around his thigh, liking the feeling of being close to him.

His breathing tickled her cheek, and her breath hitched; her lips parted. He nuzzled her cheek with his nose, and she smiled sleepily, turning her head so that their lips were almost touching. His breath danced with hers, making them both shudder slightly, as he continued to hold her snugly against him.

He grazed his lips against hers; barely touching, but they both felt it. Their breathing was becoming perfectly synchronized, and she tasted his breath; felt it on her lips. He continued this, stroking her lips ever so lightly with his own, never moving them, though; never _kissing_ her.

But this was better than kissing. Much, much better.

Her eyes were still shut when she whispered his name instinctively.

"...Bones..." He returned the whispered greeting, saying her name huskily.

Suddenly, both their eyes flew open. "Booth!" Brennan was horrified. _Booth_! She'd been doing_ that_ with Booth! Before he had time to respond, she shoved at him, trying to get him off her. She hadn't realized, however that _he_ was indeed the one against the back of the couch, and she went tumbling to the floor, smacking her head on the coffee table on the way down.

She instantly put her hand to her temple. _Great_, she thought. _I'm bleeding_.

"Ow. Dammit!" She stood up, meaning to make her way to Booth's bathroom, when she suddenly remembered where she was. _Uh oh._

Booth had seen her fall to the floor, and tried to grab her, but after their little...episode, his reflexes were a little out of whack. He watched her head hit the table, and sat up automatically, reaching out for her. "Bones! Bones, you okay?"

"Ow. Dammit!" came her reply. He guessed not. She stood up and began to sway slightly. _Concussion?! Perfect,_ he thought wryly. He was up just in time to grab her as she started falling.

"Booth," she scolded. "I've hit my head before, you know? I'm perfectly capable of going into the bathroom, getting a band-aid and sticking it on my head _by myself_." She wasn't sure whether to be angry at Booth for what had happened only a few minutes ago, or for being patronizing.

He was slightly hurt by her sarcasm, but at least she was talking to him. After the reality of what had happened between the two had hit him, he was sure she would have left. He silently thanked the coffee table, cursing it at the same time.

"Bones, you can't even stand up by yourself," he retorted, almost softly. "Besides, you don't know where everything is, do you?" What Booth didn't realize, though, was that most of her dizziness was his fault, not the horribly misplaced table's.

She shook her head and the room spun as she fell into his arms again. He was happy to keep her there. Brennan, on the other hand, was obviously not liking this idea, as she shrugged him off, squirming out of his grasp. She started making her way to the bathroom, slowly grabbing everything and anything to help her stay upright.

She paused every few seconds, closing her eyes, and taking a breath, steadying herself. The only problem was, every time she did this, she remembered the feel of his lips, the taste of his breath, and she was not enjoying the idea of opening her eyes again. Ever.

She got to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bath, yawning. Booth was right behind her. He walked calmly over to the cabinet and pulled out a pack of _Superman_ band-aids. She looked at him quizzically.

"Parker," he amended. The name sent an awkward feeling through both of them, as they remembered Booth's situation the night before. Booth looked almost lovingly at the little cartoons on the box, and Brennan was suddenly calm. She couldn't be angry at Booth. At least not now.

He snapped out of his reverie, and moved over to her with a damp washcloth. He was surprisingly clean for a single man, she observed. "Here," he said quietly, handing it to her, afraid. He was trying to be casual. It wasn't working.

She cleared her throat. "Thank you." Professionally.

"You're welcome." He tried to emulate her formality, but couldn't get his mind off _her_. They both smiled politely. She put the cloth to her head, hissing slightly, wincing. "I have an idea..." Brennan's curiosity equaled exactly nothing. Booth's ideas generally revolved around very little relevance.

Her curiosity was instantly peaked, however, when he took hold of her hand, lightly removing the cloth from her head. She had meant to yell at him, but she couldn't form any words.

Moving closer, he put one hand on either side of her head, weaving his fingers delicately through her hair. There was no reason he couldn't make this fun. He blew lightly on the graze, cooling it. It felt better almost immediately.

Involuntarily, her eyes closed, and her breath hitched. He would be the death of her. He pulled away, only to find out that her eyes were still closed. He felt rather proud of himself, now. He stifled a grin; he thought she would have hit him for that. Or worse: left.

He pulled a Superman riddled band-aid from the box, and she almost giggled. How stupid it seemed: A grown woman, a world renowned scientist and novelist, with Superman plastered on her forehead.

He saw her smiling and felt much more confident than he had a few seconds ago. He moved back over to her, and looked her in the eye, almost cautioning her. She kept smiling slightly, and he took this as an 'okay'.

He hooked a finger under her chin, making her tense. It reminded her of another time: _"...There's more than one kind of family..." _

Booth held her chin in place, rather unnecessarily, as he placed Superman over her cut. He smiled at the look of it: _The_ Doctor Temperance Brennan, in his bathroom, wearing Superman.

Almost instinctively, he leaned forward, still holding her chin, and kissed the band-aid lightly. Her eyes widened in surprise. She couldn't take much more of this. _Especially from Booth_.

Booth cleared his throat, realizing what he'd just done. "It's, uh...supposed to, uh...help with the...you know..." He stuttered almost pathetically under her gaze.

She opened her mouth to say something, and shut it almost immediately. She was speechless. What could she say at a time like this? _'Oh, okay, well, thank you. I'm off!'?_

Her main problem was: it was either that, or kiss him. And she didn't want to do either. Well, quite honestly, she wanted to do both, but either way would end badly.

As she pondered this, finding it very hard to concentrate with Boot's face so close to hers, she heard a shrill ringing. _Great timing_, she scolded the caller. She wasn't sure whether to be mad or relieved at this interruption.

Booth watched her closely. She was thinking extremely hard about something. He hoped it was him, because he would feel rather ridiculous finding out that he was the only one affected this severely by their current positions.

She sat on the edge of the bath, hands either side of her. He was crouched in front of her, one hand still on her shoulder, their faces barely two inches apart. He had a horrible feeling that this moment would make or break their relationship. He hoped to God it was the prior, but every cell in his brain screamed the latter.

He was just about to move when he heard his phone ring, dragging him out of his thoughts. He silently cursed whoever it was that was calling him.

He continued to stare at her a few seconds longer, not wanting to break eye contact, not wanting to lose the moment, but he knew that the phone call was something important. It always was.

Reluctantly, he dragged his hand off her shoulder, mourning the loss of contact. She nodded slightly, acknowledging his obligation. He stood up straight, never breaking eye contact. He smiled at her and walked out of the room.

_Damn_, they both thought as he left.


	7. Breakfast

**Spoilers: **None...

**Disclaimer: **Whatever...

**Author's Note: **_Italics_ are mostly thoughts, for those of you who haven't picked up on that yet...the rest are just emphases. This chapter is dedicated to the best friend and chef I know, Sangmo. She is also the most pedantic. But, I suppose what makes the best the best?

* * *

Brennan sat on the edge of the bath and listened to Booth talking. She couldn't tell who it was, but he spoke like it was a woman; she could hear the smile in his voice. _That voice...Shut up, Brennan!_ Her thoughts were rapidly turning again to earlier that morning, the couch, the breath, the mouths; _his_ mouth.

_No!_ She shut her eyes tightly, trying to get the image out of her head. It didn't help. When she closed her eyes, things only became more vivid. She could almost taste his breath...

_Shut. Up._ She was doing it again. It wasn't like her to think about someone like this. David? That wasn't even worth comparing to this. Sully? Sometimes she had thought about him while they were dating, but not like this. Nowhere near this.

Instead, she mulled over what had just happened; it wasn't _quite_ as distracting as her earlier thoughts. _What _did_ just happen?_ She honestly couldn't put a name to it. She wasn't sure whether to be thankful or aggravated by this thought.

Putting a name to it made it real, like it had happened, and wasn't just another one of her Booth dreams; she wasn't quite ready for that. But not being able to name it irked the scientist in her to no end. She briefly thought of asking Angela, but quickly tossed that idea away. No way was she going to do that. That was like being her own firing squad. But more painful.

No, she was on her own with this one. And by the amount of gratitude Booth seemed to be expressing to the probably-woman on the other end of the conversation, she decided he wasn't anywhere near helping her, either. Not that she would ask him.

As Brennan continued this somewhat safer train of thought, Booth hung up the phone. "Bones?!" He made his way to the bathroom, quickly poking his head in. "Angela got a hit! We need to meet her in half an hour!" He was excited about this. A break in this case was just what he wanted.

"Angela? When did you speak to Angela?" Brennan was confused. Why was he talking about Angela?

Booth gave her a funny look. "Just then, Bones." Slowly, like she was four years old. Or had the IQ of plankton. _Oh...Then. _Her brows knitted as she considered this.

Booth was already making his way to his bedroom, dragging the closet doors open. He hoped he had something clean. That reminded him that he hadn't showered, and that Bones was still sitting in his bathroom. _Crap!_ He thought, running about, trying to find another towel.

He composed himself and walked calmly into the bathroom. Brennan was still sitting on the bath, frowning at something. "Bones." Once he got her attention, he threw a towel at her. She looked confused. "Shower. Towel. Clean." He pointed at the shower, then at the towel and then finally at her. She smiled at his childishness.

Booth turned around and shut the door deliberately behind him, playing the gentleman. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to join her, but he snapped this thought off nearly as soon at it had formed. _Not now, Booth._

Once he heard the shower going, he headed towards the kitchen. He figured he may as well make them something to eat while he had nothing else to do. He knew Brennan didn't normally eat breakfast, and he wanted to make sure she did. At least while she was under his care.

He grinned at that. _Under my care..._She'd kill him if she heard him say that. But he liked the sound of it nonetheless. He searched through the fridge, reminding himself to go shopping soon.

While Booth threw together breakfast, Brennan stood under the hot shower. It felt good. _Not as good as Boo-Shut up, Brennan!_ She snapped at herself, forcing her mind to other places. Work, the little boy, Parker, Booth, Booth's couch, Booth's lips, Booth's-

She shut off the shower. Hot water was not doing her any good at the moment. Drying herself and dressing quickly, she walked into the living room, placing her coat and over-shirt on the couch.

Booth looked up. His Bones was standing in front of him wearing the same dark corduroy pants she had been the day before, and a sea green t-shirt, wet hair curled flatteringly around her face. She looked damn good.

"Um, Booth, I think it's...burning..." She cocked an eyebrow at him. He turned around. _Well, _some_thing's definitely burning._ He wasn't sure whether it was the food, though.

"Oh, yeah, thanks," he stuttered. She didn't seem to notice anything odd about his demeanor. _Thank God_.

Brennan moved over to the bench to help him. "Hey, hey, hey, Bones, Bones!" He looked her in the eyes, pointing a finger an inch away from her nose. "No. _My_ kitchen." She looked at him like he was nuts. Not many bachelors get territorial in their kitchens. _Not many married men do, either_, she thought sarcastically.

She was still smiling at her little joke when Booth flipped the food onto two plates skillfully, showing off. Brennan rolled her eyes, but she had to admit she was impressed. "Hope you like French toast!" he said proudly, giving her a charm smile that seemed even more charming than usual.

She just nodded dumbly and smiled. _Stupid, Brennan. Stupid,_ she told herself. He couldn't have this much sway over her. It was impossible. Yet he did.

He gestured to the table, and they both sat down. He handed her a knife and fork, closing his eyes slightly when their hands touched. Fortunately for him, she didn't notice his little moment as she was doing the same thing, and would have had trouble seeing anything even if her eyes were open.

"Thank you," she said politely as she had in the bathroom earlier.

"You're welcome," he replied, smiling warmly. He meant it.

As they began eating, both had a feeling that this day's conversations were going to be rather repetitive.


	8. Maxim Tucker

**Spoilers: **Not unless you make 'em!

**Disclaimer: **I like Booth...

**Author's Note: **Okay, my chapters are getting longer. Good or bad thing? I don't know, you tell me! Ooh, and...road trip ahead? Wink, wink...

* * *

Brennan arrived at the lab a few minutes before Booth, giving her a quick window to slip into her office unnoticed, and check her emails and messages. She was sitting silently, staring at the computer screen with a cup of coffee when Angela walked in. 

"Geez, Bren, _you're_ late," she said suggestively, giving her a professional smirk. "Late night?" She raised her eyebrows.

"What? Oh, yes, late night." She smiled politely, only half in the conversation. Angela rolled her eyes in defeat. "Why are you smirking, Angela? You didn't have sex with Hodgins in your office again, did you?" _Oops, I wasn't supposed to see that..._

Instead of looking embarrassed or shocked, like a normal person, Angela looked positively mischievous. "Maybe..." Brennan cringed as Angela smiled to herself, remembering, no doubt.

Just as Brennan was about to say something about ethics, they heard a booming 'good morning' from down the hall; Booth was announcing his presence, and, Angela was interested to note, happy.

"'Good' morning, indeed, Booth," said Angela impishly, smiling knowingly. Booth looked at her in mock offence.

"Can't a man just be happy to see two such fine women on a beautiful morning like this?" Brennan rolled her eyes at his melodramatic emphases.

"Not if he looks like that. You got some, didn't you?" Brennan went bright red and hid her head, instantly interested in the blank screen in front of her. Thankfully, Angela was still too entertained teasing Booth.

"You know, Angela, no offence, but you can sometimes be as clueless as Bones, here." He pointed at Brennan, who was slightly more normally coloured by this point.

"Hey!" she and Angela exclaimed at the same time. "Totally an unfair comment, there, G-man," Angela mock-scolded.

"_I_ take offence to that!" came Brennan's response. With both women staring at him, Booth mumbled something about going to see Cam and left, flattening his tie on the way out.

"Geesh, touchy...Men!" Angela was about to start one of her rants, when Zach walked into the office.

"Doctor Brennan, you're here. The FBI got a hit in the missing person's database. And I found something you might want to look at..." Zach was as factual as usual, but still trying to sound like he belonged within the police department.

"Thanks, Zach. I'll be right down." She got up and looked at Angela. "Did you find anything else in the crime scene photos?"

"Well, there was one thing, but I'm not sure what to make of it yet. There was also something in his pocket; I'm cleaning it up as we speak. By the way, we need to talk later." She looked pointedly at Brennan, who looked utterly confused. This morning was turning out to be particularly odd.

Brennan thought about why Angela could possibly want to talk to her, but soon forgot about everything as she swiped her card, and caught sight of the skeleton.

Her mind was now totally clear; every memory from this morning was forgotten, the conversation she had just had was non-existent. All that remained was this skeleton.

"Zach. You found something?" She looked up expectantly.

"Yes." He moved across the platform towards a computer. "Look at this." He pressed a few keys, and a picture popped up. He spun the screen towards her.

"This is part of the left clavicle. See the blood imprinted in the fissure line, here." Zach pointed to where he was describing.

"Okay, so the victim wasn't on the ground when the-" looking up, she saw Booth move to stand next to the computer "-_violence_ started."

"Okay, what? Would you stop changing your minds?" He was getting frustrated, but he knew it wasn't their fault. They both glared at him and he put his hands up in surrender. "Sorry. I just..."

"I know, Booth." Brennan turned back to the screen. "The victim was not on the ground. He was shoved, quite violently, to the ground. The impact fractured his clavicle." Booth made a sound to show he understood.

"Oh. Also, Doctor Brennan, there was this." Zach emphasized the last word, and looked at Booth expectantly. Booth made a 'go on' gesture, making Zach smile at his accomplishment.

Zach walked back over to the table across the platform. Now Booth knew why Bones was in such good shape.

"Look at the right humerus and scapula." Zach had gotten into the habit of either saying things simply, or translating them while Booth was around, as had the rest of the Squints. Brennan picked up the humerus, examining it first.

She frowned slightly, then switched it for the scapula. As she studies the triangular bone, looking at the socket. It all took a matter of seconds.

"There is evidence here of sepa-" she stopped as she remembered Booth "- his shoulder was dislocated. This means he was probably shoved to the ground, stomped, then the killer tried to yank him to his feet." She made a sharp gesture with her arm, imitating what she was saying.

"Judging from the severity of the damage, I'd say the victim was already dead by the time the killer pulled his arm out of the socket." She looked at Booth's frown. "'Dead weight' is a lot heavier than the regular weight of a person," she explained. Booth made his 'I understand' noise again, and began to tell Brennan what he had found.

"The boy's name is Maxim Tucker." He didn't need to look at his notes; the name was already drilled into his head. "Disappeared on the twelfth of December 1997, while his family was on a picnic at the park. He was buried within ten yards of where the family was eating," he said sadly, shaking his head.

He continued, "His mother and father reported him missing. Sister is now twenty; still living in D.C. Brother is eighteen, now living with his parents in Charleston, Virginia. Looks like we have a bit of driving to do, huh, Bones?" He looked at her, grinning.

"What? But...I have to stay here..." she argued half-heartedly. She really did want to go, but she still had to look as if she didn't.

"Zach can do that by himself, Bones. After all, he's not a student anymore, right?" He looked at Zach, winking. Zach was ecstatic; Booth was talking about him, _to_ him. And he wasn't insulting him.

"Yes, Doctor Brennan. I have done it before, too, while you were in L.A., and New Orleans, and-"

"Okay, Zach! I know you're perfectly capable of working this on your own, but what if-"

It was Booth's turn to cut in, "Come on, Bones! Can't waste any time!"

And with that he grabbed her upper arms and turned her around, forcing her off the platform, while she yelled instructions back at Zach.


	9. Driving With Mariah Carey

**Spoilers: **Blah.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bones, cars, or Mariah Carey.

**Author's Note: **I wrote the majority of this chapter in a science lesson, so…A VERY huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! You guys keep me writing! I love you all!!

* * *

Brennan smiled as she walked to the car with Booth; she loved going on Booth's little 'road trips', whether she would admit it or not. Booth seemed to be in a good mood, which she figured had something to do with getting a lead on this case, so she decided to push her luck.

"Can I drive?" There was no point in mincing her words, here: it was hit or miss.

Booth looked at her like she had just asked him to renounce Catholicism. "No, Bones. Not now, not tomorrow, not next week, not ever." He made a wild hand gesture that caused her to recoil back against the door. She looked at him sulkily, almost angry.

"Why not? I'm a very good driver, I've told you before. Besides, you always drive."

"Yes, Bones. _I always drive_," he emphasized. "Did you ever see a little pattern here-'' he gestured between them "-with your freakish…Squint-brain?"

"Hey! That's unfair. And my brain is not 'freakish'. It's physiologically the same as yours, Booth. I'm just smarter than you."

"Gee, thanks, Bones. It's always nice to be complimented first thing in the morning," he retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes. They stood in the parking lot for a minute or two, trying silently to stare each other down. Brennan broke the silence.

"So can I drive?"

His head swiveled so he was looking right at her. "No." He opened the passenger side door for her, holding it open so she had to walk under his arm. She muttered something about chauvinism and bigotry as he closed her door, making him grin at her through the window in victory.

She resisted the urge to poke her tongue out. Booth didn't, making Brennan laugh. He was still grinning at her as he opened his door, taking his keys out very deliberately, waving them in front of her face.

He leaned in closer, so their faces were barely six inches apart, holding the keys next to them. "Ready to go, Bones? Or are you going to sulk some more?" he teased. She narrowed her eyes at him, gauging whether to play with or ignore him.

Leaning back into her seat, she decided on both. "Fine." He smiled smugly, clearly pleased with himself. "But the radio's mine."

He looked at her skeptically. "Fine. Just make sure you don't pick something that will make me crash this car." She rolled her eyes and he started the engine, happy that he got the last word.

They were almost half way there when Booth noticed that Brennan had fallen asleep. They had been sitting in comfortable silence for about an hour when Booth looked over and saw her lying against the seat with her eyes closed, her breathing perfectly steady.

He had to force himself to keep focused on the road; she really was beautiful. The mid-morning sun was on her face, lighting her strong features softly, illuminating her hair, giving her a sort of ethereal aura.

Even asleep in the car, she held herself in a somewhat graceful manner; her hands were folded in her lap, one over the other, palms up; her back was straight, but comfortably so, as if it were perfectly natural; her head was leaning slightly to her left, giving Booth an effortless view of her face.

He could feel his grip tighten on the wheel if he looked at her for too long, and felt slightly ashamed; if he was going to be doing this, he should at least have the decency to do it while she was awake. _Or the courage_, he thought sulkily.

He couldn't handle it any longer. With all his willpower, her reached a hand over and shook her shoulder slightly, as he did with Parker in the morning. "Bones," he whispered. He ran a finger along her jawbone, and down her neck, keeping his palm on her shoulder, trying to rouse her gently.

He mentally scolded himself. No, this was most definitely _not_ how he woke up Parker. His hand continued to disobey him, however, and he said her name again, a little bit louder. He heard her mumble something incoherent and she rolled her head so she was facing the windshield.

Booth took his hand away. "Hey. Sorry to wake you," he said honestly.

"What? Oh. I fell asleep." She shook her head, trying to clear it from sleep. Booth laughed quietly at her obvious remark.

"Yeah, Bones, you fell asleep. Nice to know that Squint-brain of yours is being put to good use," he said, smiling crookedly, holding back more laughter.

She ignored the remark completely. "How long have I been asleep? Are we there yet?" Booth laughed again, and she looked at him, confused.

"What? When you were on car trips, as a kid, you never...you know...the whole 'Are we there yet' thing?" She looked at him blankly. He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Never mind, Bones...never mind..." He patted her knee as if she was an invalid, nodding in mock pity. She swatted his hand playfully, and turned her attention to the radio.

Brennan fiddled for about five minutes before deciding that there was nothing to listen to, all the while driving Booth mad with incessant _talk, crackle, music, crackle, talk, music, crackle._ She dug through the glove compartment to see if she could find any CD's. She grinned victoriously and made a little questioning noise when she found a Mariah Carey CD.

Booth flashed a look over, quickly doing a double-take. "Uh...That's um. No, you see-that's not mine!" he stuttered, making a grab for the CD. She pulled it away from his grasp, like she might have an infant.

"I'm sure it isn't, Booth." Booth looked relieved. "All I want to know is: why is it in your car?" She smirked, knowing she had him cornered. Booth grimaced. He couldn't think of anything to say. He had completely forgotten about that CD; how could he explain it to Brennan? He decided he may as well tell her the truth.

"Uh...there was...you know, this _girl_." He emphasized the word so he didn't have to explain his exact relationship with 'this girl'; Brennan would understand the tone. "And she had the CD in her purse. And the purse ended up, you know, _on the floor_ of the car, and that kind of, you know, fell out of it, so I, you know, put it there..." Booth was staring at the road, refusing to look at his partner. He didn't really want to talk about car-sex with Bones.

To his surprise, Brennan laughed. "You...You dated a girl who listens to Mariah Carey? Geez, I knew your taste was..._limited_, but I didn't think it was that _bad_!" Brennan turned the CD over in her hands, studying the half naked pictures.

"Well, we didn't really da-wait! Limited! What do you mean by limited? And I do not have a 'bad' taste in women." Booth was offended. _If only she knew how very limited it is_, he thought dryly.

She looked at him mock-reprovingly. "I had more faith in you, Booth." She shook her head at him, barely containing her laughter.

"Fine, but what do you mean by 'limited'?" Booth really wanted to know how Brennan saw his...whatever they were.

"I just meant that, besides Cam, every girl you have ever dated while I've known you has been very similar to the one before her. I also know that _they_ are all physically similar to Rebecca, so it isn't just while you've known _me_ that you've had your...preferences." She looked at him and shrugged slightly, ending her point.

He stared at her. He was again perfectly speechless. _It _is_ only while I've known you that I've had my preferences,_ he thought. _...Trust me, it is. _

Finally, he decided to end the argument. Booth looked at her sternly, making sure she was paying attention. "You're wrong."

"No I'm not, I mean, just look at-"

"No. Temperance, you are wrong." Brennan was confused by his last comment. Why would Booth call her Temperance? They were having a conversation, an argument, even...why would he call her Temperance _now_?

Unless he was trying to say something else...They locked eyes across the car. Brennan saw something in Booth's eyes she couldn't name, but whatever it was, she didn't want to see it there. She tore her eyes away, and Booth quickly followed suit.

_Screw subtlety,_ he thought.


	10. Lili with an I

**Spoilers: **Nope.

**Disclaimer: **Eh.

**Author's Note: **Oops, another long chapter, here...Oh well. I hope you like this one! It's slightly irrelevant, but it was fun to write. I believe there is going to be some hotel-trouble in the next chapter, so review if you love me!! And thank you again to all who have reviewed so far!

* * *

As they pulled into a long driveway, Booth rechecked the address: _157 Viewmont Dr., Charleston._ "Yep, this is it..." Booth confirmed. "Nice. I can see why a family would move here to start over." Booth looked around at the houses on the street.

Most of them were large, but not over the top. Each had a front yard, covered with lawn, many scattered with playthings: balls, Tonka trucks, skipping ropes. There were hop-scotches drawn on the pavement in yellow and pink chalk. The street was lined with family-sized cars: four-wheel drives, station wagons, the occasional minivan.

Booth nearly jumped when Brennan spoke. "It must be hard to live in a neighborhood like this after losing a child. Though, anthropologically speaking, it isn't uncommon for people to deal with loss by surrounding themselves with people who have the very thing they don't."

Booth looked at her, confused. "Because they don't feel so much like they've lost it because it seems the norm to have what everyone surrounding you does, therefore, you mustn't have lost it." He was still trying to wrap his head around this when a little girl interrupted his thoughts. She began talking to Brennan.

"Hello! Are you here to see mummy and daddy?" The little girl smiled excitedly, then seemed to remember something. She looked around nervously. She grabbed Brennan's sleeve and pulled her towards her, so she could whisper in her ear. "Mummy says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. But you're pretty." She looked up expectantly, grinning. Booth hid a smile. _Yes, she is_, he thought.

Brennan knelt down so she was the girl's height. "You know, sweetie, your mum's right. You shouldn't talk to strangers, but this man here is my friend, Special Agent Booth. Do you know what that means?" The little girl shook her head, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Well," she began, "That means that he works for the FBI. He's a special sort of policeman. See, he has a badge." They both turned to Booth, and he obeyed, handing his badge to the little girl. She looked it over with curiosity, running her fingers along the edge. Booth looked down at her; she was about six years old.

"What's your name, honey?" he asked. She answered without looking up from the badge.

"Lili Tucker, with a 'I'. People always forget that." She looked up and grinned.

"Oh, Lili, with an 'I'," -he looked at her and winked, and she giggled- "do you live here?" Booth was confused slightly. The Tucker's had another child...

"Yes. Mummy is inside. She's making me lunch!" Her eyes brightened as she remembered the food. She noticed the frown on Booth's face, and mistook the reasoning. "Daddy is at work," she tried to explain.

This time Brennan spoke. "Well, Lili, may we come inside and say hello to your mummy? My friend wants to ask her some questions." She looked at Booth's faraway expression, slightly worried.

"Uh huh!" She nodded so hard that her messy pony-tail bounced, and ran towards the house, opening the door for them. Brennan called to Booth to get his attention and they stood on the doorstep, waiting.

"Mummy! There is a policeman and a pretty lady here to see you! See? He let me hold his badge!" Booth laughed; he'd forgotten she still had that.

A woman appeared in front of them, Lili at her side, bouncing on her toes. Booth put out his hand. "Hello, you are Grace Tucker?" She nodded dumbly. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, this is my partner, Doctor Temperance Brennan. We have some news for you, about your son, Maxim, and we'd like to ask you some questions, if it's not too much trouble."

She nodded again, and motioned for them to come in. Booth leaned over to Brennan. "After you, 'pretty lady'," he whispered. Brennan stifled a smile. And the urge to hit him.

As they entered what Booth surmised as being a dining room, she urged them to sit. Booth took a chair next to Brennan at a small dining table. Grace sat opposite them both. "We're very sorry, but we...we have some bad news; regarding your son, Maxim."

"Max," she said almost instantly. "He...he liked to be called Max." She suddenly remembered Lili was still in the room, and flashed a look at her, gauging what to do next.

Brennan stood up. "Hey, Lili, why don't you give Agent Booth his badge back and show me your room?" She looked at Grace, who nodded approval. Booth was again surprised to see Brennan talk to a child almost normally, and he smiled kindly at her as she was dragged out of the room by the over-excited child.

Booth looked up again at Grace. Her eyes were wide, wet with threatening tears. She spoke first. "He's dead." Booth wasn't really surprised. It happened quite often that parents just 'knew' when their child had died.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry. We found your son's remains buried in a park in D.C. The same park he disappeared from in 1997. We are told your family used to picnic there?" He spoke carefully, trying not to upset her too much, but knowing that her pain was inevitable.

A tear slid down her cheek. "Oh, God. There? Oh, God." She pulled her cardigan tighter around her neck. "That's right, yes. We used to go there a lot. Even in December. Which is what made it so odd that he would wonder off. On sunny days, it wasn't so strange for the kids to go and play for hours, you know, away from my husband and me. There were always dozens of people around."

"But it isn't sunny in December. It was cold that day; it was snowing, which is why we went. There was nearly no one about..." she trailed off. Booth nodded sympathetically.

"Mrs. Tucker, I know you have answered these questions before, but I have to ask them. Do you remember anyone specific? Someone you knew? Someone who looked out of place?"

She shook her head again. "No, there wasn't anyone who stood out. In fact, we only saw about three people that day who were anywhere _near_ us. Everyone else was running from the snow."

Booth continued to ask her questions, as Brennan walked up the stairs, following the eager little girl. "This one's my room!" Lilli exclaimed, out of breath from running up the steps so fast.

Brennan put on an amazed expression. "Wow! This is pretty, Lili! You must really like this room, huh?" She followed Lili with her eyes as the little girl sat on her bed.

"Yes! It's the best room _ever_! My friend Claire has a room the same colour. We do everything the same. See?" She held up the necklace she was wearing. It was half of a 'best-friends' necklace. "Because we are best friends," she clarified.

"Oh, I see! I had one of those when I when I was your age, too. My friend's name was Caitlin." She smiled as she remembered her younger years.

"Are you still best friends?"

"Yes, best of friends," she lied, smiling widely. In fact, she had lost touch with Caitlin years ago, even before her parents had left.

Brennan and Lili chatted for about an hour, Lili showing her all her dolls, telling her all their names, and what they do, what they like; she told her about her favourite Disney princesses, Pocahontas and Anastasia; she told her about school, her friends, her teacher, her favourite subjects.

Brennan was glad that Lili talked so much; she had no clue what to say to a six year old. When there was a break in conversation, Brennan looked at Lili. "You have a big brother named Lachlan, don't you? He just finished school?"

Lili looked at her in amazement. "Wow! How did you know that?"

"Because she's very smart. She knows everything!"

Both the girl's heads whipped around to see Booth standing at the door with Grace, grinning at them. "No she doesn't. No one knows everything. My teacher, Mr. Longman, always says so." She stood with her hands on her hips, frowning at Booth.

Booth shook his head. "Nu uh! Does too. Ask her something." He smiled, winking at Brennan. She rolled her eyes at his childishness.

"Uh...What is...four times...three?" She was sure she'd have her stumped.

"Twelve," Brennan answered automatically. Lili's mouth made a perfect 'o'.

"How did you do it so fast? And you didn't use your hands!"

Booth smiled like a little kid again. "See? I told you she knows everything! Come on, Bones, we have to go." He motioned to her.

"'Bones' is a funny name," Lili giggled. "Why do you call her that? You said her name was Doctor Tem...Tem...um..." Lili bit her lip, trying to remember.

"Temperance," they both finished for her. They exchanged smiles.

"Yes. Temperance. Why do you call her 'Bones'?" She looked at them inquisitively, head cocked, lips pursed.

"Because she likes it when I do." Booth grinned from ear to ear as they left the house, clearly pleased with his response. Brennan again fought the urge to hit him as they said their goodbyes.


	11. Hotels and Toothbrushes

**Spoilers: **Only if you have a very strange imagination.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own_ Bones_, children, arguing, the year 1997, or nudity.

**Author's Note: **The plot thickens[Quote courtesy of my dear Narrating friend, Amelia. I wrote half of this in a maths lesson today when our teacher decided to give us free time, instead of actually _teaching _us, like a normal person...or a good teacher. Oh well. Some entertaining conversation came out of it. Have a look:

* * *

"The mother claims to know nothing more than she told the police in 1997," Booth stated as they got into the car. Brennan looked over at him cynically.

"Yes, Booth, memory doesn't tend to get much _better_ over ten years, especially if it is something that you are trying not to remember," she stated flatly.

Booth looked over at her from the driver's seat. He was about to rant on about her cynicism, but decided against it. "Psychology, Bones. Psychology," he retorted, making her stop in her tracks. She opened her mouth, and then shut it almost as quickly. Booth grinned haughtily. _Score- one Booth: Brennan zero,_ he thought proudly.

Booth started the car and pulled out off the curb. "You know, Booth, Sweets says that you shouldn't be so mean to me."

"He does _not_, Bones. He says that you should try to be more understanding towards, you know, _normal_ people," he bit back. She was starting to irritate him. He could hardly believe that only this morning they had been lying on his couch…_together_.

She looked at him grumpily. "He does, too. You just aren't listening. You're too busy…fiddling with things. You can't sit still, you know. You're like a child!"

"Am not."

"Are, too."

"Am not."

"Are, too!"

"Oh, _now_ who's being the child, huh?" Booth pointed at her, eyebrows raised.

"You started it," she sulked as she sunk back into her seat, slightly ashamed she'd let Booth make her act like a four-year-old.

A silence descended upon them and each was left to their own thoughts. Brennan was still trying to get the image of the little girl, Lili, out of her head. She looked so much like her late brother, Maxim. They were about the same age. It must have been hell for her parents to have another child that age. _The memories that would bring_..., thought Brennan sadly.

She pictured the little girl, with her bright brown eyes, and mouse-brown hair, bouncing on her toes with a happy face; so innocent, so trusting. Brennan wondered if that had been why Maxim went missing so many years ago. Had he been so trusting? So inquisitive?

Or was it just some freak event that the Tuckers just happened to be involved in? She pictured the reconstruction Angela had done of Maxim, and mentally compared it to Lili. _So similar..._

Booth thought about what the mother had said. She knew nothing. She had seen nothing, heard nothing, and done nothing out of the ordinary. It was just another day, December twelfth nineteen ninety-seven, until that very moment. Booth forced his thoughts almost subconsciously to stay professional.

Follow a line of inquiry. Call around. Find the bastard who had done this. Make him pay. He thought of Lili; how worried her parents must be for her. She was six. The same age as Maxim was. Max. _Call him Max_. God, they looked similar! He couldn't help but worry for her. He felt like he knew her fate, but her fate was impossible.

Her fate had already happened. Booth couldn't take this any longer.

"Hey, we need to bunk for the night. Any ideas, 'Pretty Lady'?" He gave her a Charm Smile.

"Stop calling me that. It was cute when Lili did it, it's just annoying when you do it," she retorted, smiling. "I prefer _'Bones' _to that!"

"Aw, come one, you like it when I call you Bones." He playfully punched her arm. She remained silent, trying to preserve what little dignity Booth had left her with. She still couldn't help but smile.

Brennan thought for a minute. "Wait! Why do we have to stay? I have things to do tomorrow!"

"Because, Bones. I want to talk to the father. And the brother, for that matter." Booth looked perplexed for a minute. "Yes, the brother. You never found out where he is?"

"No, because _you_ interrupted me." She pointed a finger at him accusingly. Booth held his hands up in surrender, and Brennan yelled at him to put his hands back on the wheel, half-laughing.

"You'll be the death of me..." she muttered just loud enough for Booth to hear, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back. _Well, if I _had_ to die..., _she let the thought trail off on its own, trying not to enjoy it too much.

About fifteen minutes later, they found a hotel that looked reasonable. It was a nice place, with a pool, and large rooms. After all, the FBI would be paying for it. Not that the pool would be much use in December. But still, it was there, and that was the point.

Booth pulled up in the parking lot, and stopped the car. "Booth, I don't see the point in this. Can't you just come down tomorrow, or something? I don't have any clothes, or my toothbrush. Neither do you, for that matter." Now she was just plain annoyed. She really didn't see the point.

Booth sighed dramatically. "The point is: now we don't _have_ to drive down tomorrow. And you can buy a toothbrush from the hotel." He turned to leave.

"What am I going to sleep in?" she challenged.

"Well, I suppose you'll have to sleep naked," he said, his face perfectly straight, as if it was a normal thing to suggest. He stood watching her just long enough to see her reaction, and walked away, his back to her, laughing.

* * *

Tell me what you think! I love reviews, and I write much, _much_ more if I get them! Thankyou to everyone who's reviewed so far, I love you all!! 


	12. Bored?

**Spoilers: **Nope!

**Disclaimer:** Eh, whatever.

**Author's Note: **Uhh...All I want for Christmas is lots of reviews! So if you love me (and/or this story), please?

* * *

Brennan looked after him, shocked. She wasn't sure whether he had been joking or not. She couldn't tell which she would have preferred. On one hand, if he had have been joking, then she could just laugh it off. On the other hand, if he was joking, it meant he found something entertaining in the prospect of her sleeping naked.

She wouldn't admit to herself how much she liked the idea of the latter. She slowly followed him into the building when she saw him holding the lobby door open for her a few yards away, smiling curiously.

Booth was pleased he had made her speechless. That was something that didn't happen to Temperance Brennan very often. Though he was slightly worried, too. He had said it as a joke. But he honestly wasn't sure whether or not he had truly been joking. He had a horrible feeling he had actually been contemplating her naked when he'd said it.

_Uh oh,_ he thought as she entered the building, just sweeping against his arm as he held the door for her. Now he had the image of her naked in his head. This was not going to be an easy night.

"Geez, Bones, what took you so long?" he asked mockingly, smirking. Brennan totally ignored him as she made her way to the desk.

Brennan looked at the receptionist. She was slim, about twenty, unnaturally blonde, her lips were smothered with makeup, and she was just Booth's type. _I bet she's really stupid_, thought Brennan more for her own benefit than for observational purposes. The only problem with that, she realized, was that that only seemed to peak Booth's interest _more_.

Brennan forced a smile at the girl. "Hi. Are there any rooms available?" Booth was standing close behind her now. Brennan had no doubt he was checking out the receptionist.

"Well hi! We sure do, ma'am!" she exclaimed with a very Southern drawl. _God, she's annoying!_ Thought Booth. He stood close to Brennan automatically, protectively. _And a girl her age shouldn't be wearing so much makeup_, he thought, wincing mentally. He had seen many girls looking like this in his job; most of them were prostitutes.

"What are you after? You see, we don't get many visitors down here this time of year, you know, it being cold and all." She smiled as if she were looking for some kind of approval.

"Well, we're only here for _one night_." Brennan looked pointedly at Booth, who was now so close she could feel heat coming from him. She relished in this for a second, before remembering herself. It _was_ cold, after all.

The blonde mistook the tone. "Ooh! Married?" asked the girl, winking suggestively at Booth.

"We're not married!" Brennan almost yelled, just as Booth was saying, "She is not my mistress!" They both looked at each other, taken aback, then back at blondie, who was now looking slightly awkward. Booth silently wondered how many times she'd made that mistake. Not too many, unless she really was as stupid as he had first thought.

She quickly muttered something, then excused herself, leaving Booth and Brennan alone in the silent lobby. "Why-" they both began.

"Hello, ya'll! I'm sorry about Regan. She can be a little..._forward_ sometimes." Booth and Brennan turned to the woman who was not standing in front of them. She looked remarkable like 'Regan'. Brennan figured she was her mother.

_Regan_, Booth thought sardonically. _Figures_. He chuckled, than looked up, remembering he was not alone. He cleared his throat.

"Don't worry about it ma'am. It isn't the first time something like that's happened. You see, I work for the FBI. This is my _partner_, Doctor Brennan." He placed his hands on her shoulders, still behind her.

"The FBI? Oh, dear, has something awful happened? Oh, no, you can't tell me that, can you? Not that you would tell me even if ya'll could, seeings as I ain't official or nothing..." she rambled. Brennan stole a look behind her at Booth, and they both smiled, trying to refrain from laughter.

Booth thought it was quite funny that he could create such a fuss by simply stating his profession. Brennan, on the other hand, found it both amusing and anthropologically fascinating that her accent and bad grammar became much more evident the more she rambled; the more upset she got.

"Ma'am." Booth snapped her out of her muddled speech.

"Oh, dears, I'm sorry! It's just that I'm not really used to this sort of thing. I mean, the crime rates here aren't low, but...FBI..."

"Yes, ma'am. But we aren't here for _purely_ professional reasons," Booth said, trying to lead her off the crime-thing. Brennan glared at him. "We just need two rooms for one night, that's all." Booth gave her his Charm Smile, and it worked as well as it always did.

The woman instantly went to the computer, asked their names, and within seconds, handed them a room key each. "Ms Brennan, you're room four thirty-four. Mr-Agent Booth, you're number four thirty-two." They both looked at her, meaning to thank her, when she misread their expressions.

"Only next to each other in case something...pops up. Like a murder or something, God forbid," she said solemnly.

"God forbid," Booth repeated, smiling at her. "Goodnight." He smiled at her again, and Brennan laughed quietly as she thought the woman might faint. _I sympathize_, she thought dryly as they made their way to the elevator.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Brennan smacked Booth in the arm. "Ow!" he yelled at her, rubbing his arm. "What was that for?!"

"You made her think we were sleeping together!" Brennan bit back, hands on hips. Booth took a stance so he was facing her.

"I did not! She was just too stupid to keep her weird 'affair' thoughts to herself. It isn't my fault that some blonde teen has her mind in the gutter!"

"What? I wasn't talking about her, Booth. I was talking about the other one!" She rolled her eyes, as if he should have known. "'_Purely_ professional', Booth? She thinks we're a couple!"

Booth surprised her with his comeback. "So?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers. Brennan's eyes widened slightly. "Who cares if some woman we'll probably never see again thinks we're a couple?" he added quickly.

"Besides, if I was her, I would have thought the same thing..." he couldn't help but add, turning back around to face the elevator doors again. Brennan stood dumb for a few seconds. _What the Hell was that?_ she thought.

The elevator _dinged_ and they stepped onto their floor, and went to their doors. "It was still your fault," said Brennan as she closed the door behind her, making Booth laugh. He closed his door behind him. "That's my Temperance. Always has to get the last word..." He shook his head, amused.

Brennan sat down on the bed in her room. She was bored already, and she'd only been in the room for a matter of minutes. Besides, it was still only five o'clock, and it was just light outside. She briefly thought about going for a run, then remembered she had no other clothes.

"Damn," she muttered. There was a knock at her door. Booth; she recognized the knock. She moved over to the door and let him in.

"Bored?" he asked, seeing her expression. "Well, I have just the thing!"

"Um, Booth, we can't swim, it's too cold, and we don't have swimmers; I can't run, because I have no running gear; there are no books here, save the Bible..." she ended rather sourly.

"Hey. Careful, there, Bones. Some people actually_ like_ the Bible..." Booth didn't want to start an argument, but he wouldn't let it go, either.

"Yes, but I've already read the Bible," she stated simply. Booth sighed.

"Bones, the Bible isn't the kind of book you just...you know what, never mind..." he said, exasperated. There were a few minutes of silence. Brennan spoke first. She turned to face him.

"So what's this thing you had in mind?"

He only grinned.


	13. Channel Surfing With Puffins

**Spoilers: **Only if you're into bird documentaries.

**Disclaimer: **This documentary I quoted is not mine...It belongs to the BBC. No joke. I didn't make this up...

**Author's Note: **Okay, I'm back! I was away for the Christmas week, so haven't had time to update. Well, technically, I didn't have a computer to update. I had enough time to _hand write_ four chapters. Now I just have to type them all, which'll probably take a fortnight. But here's chapter thirteen for now! Enjoy! Thank you to al my reviewers! I love you all!

* * *

Brennan sat on the couch with Booth, staring at him in disbelief, eyebrows raised. He sat perfectly comfortably, eyes straight ahead, a smile on his face. She couldn't take it any longer.

"Booth, _why_ are we doing this? It's only just...evening!" She glanced at her watch then shoved it in Booth's face. He finally turned to face her, grabbing her hand in the process, holding it securely.

"Please, Bones. Okay, three things: We are doing this because it's _fun_," he marked them off with his fingers. "Would you calm down and act like a normal person? And finally, _stop sticking things in my face!"_ For effect, he linked his fingers with her, still holding her hand, and shook their entwined hands in front of her.

Brennan was beginning to get frustrated with him, but could see that he had a point. She decided to deal with both.

"Okay, sorry, but I was just making my point."

"Again," Booth muttered, interrupting. She shot him a look; he held his free hand up in surrender, permissing her to continue.

"And this, Booth," she motioned to the television, "Is _not_ fun. It's purely annoying. You are like a child!" He changed the channel again, making his point. "With attention deficit disorder..."

This time it was a documentary on the mating habits of puffins, narrated by someone clearly in awe of such a practice. Booth and Brennan were silent.

"_...The beaks become gentle tools for fondling each other..." _

At this, Booth laughed loudly, entertained by this wording. Brennan was torn between fascination and embarrassment. The awestruck narrator continued:

"_...Some courtships take up to two years..."_

Booth went slightly red as they listened to the narration, eyes glued to the screen, refusing to meet the others'. Brennan tried to extricate her hand from Booth's, clearing her throat quietly.

His grip tightened.

She stole a look at him, intending to tell him off, but as soon as she looked at him, her whole body stopped. She couldn't form words, or move away; he was staring at her so intently. She was frozen.

Booth tried as hard as he could to tell her what he wanted to with his eyes. He knew he was being a coward. If he said something, there was no taking it back. But if he didn't...If he didn't, he could deny anything she _saw_; he could pretend nothing had happened.

Chances are that someone of her social awareness wouldn't pick up on it anyway. At least, that's what he told himself.

Either way, he was terrified.

Booth took a deep breath, holding it. He raised his free hand to her face, palm molding around her jaw, thumb resting on her cheekbone. Of their own accord, her eyes fluttered closed.

He let out his breath, somewhat unaware that he had been holding it. _She didn't hit me...,_ Booth thought thankfully. She bit her lip. She was lost now...

They sat like this while the TV droned on pointlessly in a completely different world; Booth studying her, smiling slightly when he realized he had her incapacitates, if only for a short amount of time. _Before she realizes that I do,_ he thought unhappily.

But all his thought processes stopped instantly and most pleasurably when she turned her face and pressed her lips to the ball of his hand, apparently not incapacitated enough.

He pulled their entwined hands to his chest, forcing her closer. She finally opened her eyes, too slowly meeting his. She swallowed, still biting her lip as she did so, moving only centimetres closer.

Booth wanted to grab her just then, but he knew he couldn't; he was treading seriously thin ice as it was.

Every ounce of self control screamed at him as he, too, moved towards her, angling her face slightly upwards with his hand on her jaw.

Her breath shook; this was dangerous. Beyond the point of no return, as people say. But when he moved her face, her breath stopped completely. He was going to kiss her.

Booth moved closer still, stopping only an inch away, still staring into her eyes. The both closed their eyes and parted their lips as Brennan moved to close the distance between them, grasping his hand tighter, against his chest.

Suddenly the quiet documentary behind them ended, and a loud ad come on, yelling at them both.

They tore themselves apart, suddenly finding themselves hiding behind opposite arms of the couch. Brennan's eyes were wide, Booth's jaw clenched, both gripped the small hotel-room couch as if their lives depended upon it. In truth, they were trying to maintain self-control.

After about five minutes of staring at each other, terrified, Booth spoke.

"I have to go," he said bluntly, as fast as possible. Booth had made it to the door before Brennan could protest or agree.

As he rested his hand on the door handle he turned around to look at a very stunned and confused Brennan, who was still standing, holding the arm of the couch tightly.

He frowned slightly, debating inwardly, then, to her surprise, he smiled at her affectionately.

"Goodnight, Temperance," he said, closing the door quietly behind him.


	14. The Fingerprint

**Spoilers: **None!

**Disclaimer: **I love Summer holidays!!

**Author's Note: **Another painstaking chapter I had to rewrite, because I was computer deprived. Oh well. Tell me what you think! I love feedback, as most writers do, and I want to please all of you, my Wonderful Readers. But to do so, I need you Wonderful Reader Feedback!

Booth closed his door behind him and leaned heavily against it, drawing a deep breath. He still couldn't get the memory of her, the _feeling_ of her, from his head. _So close_!, he thought, hitting his head against the door.

"So close!" he repeated out loud, hitting his head too hard. "Ow!" He grabbed the back of his head, wincing. Booth resisted the urge to kick the door; it wasn't the door's fault that he had the world's worst timing, or that he was the world's biggest coward. Instead, he stalked across the room and flung himself on the bed, covering his face with a pillow.

After a few minutes, he had calmed down enough to form relatively clear thoughts. They didn't help. _Twice in one day...Twice!_ Sure, he and Brennan had had their share of 'moments'. But they were _never_ this intense; never this _pleasurable_...they had never come this close.

They had moments where they _could_ have, but this time...This time they _would _have. _Or would we?_ Booth asked himself, still somewhat in denial. _Yes, Seeley, of course we would have!_ He yelled silently at himself. _Maybe we would have stopped; caught ourselves...No. We would have._

_I could have kissed her...I could have kissed Bones. Bones!_

As Booth wallowed in self pity and regret next door, Brennan sat on her couch, head in hands. She looked at the couch and a warmth flashed through her. A feeling she hadn't felt in a very long time. Well, that was a lie; she'd felt it that morning. Actually, she'd felt it many times with Booth, only never this intensely.

She shot a glare at the offending couch and moved to sit on her bed. What had she done? Now she was in unscrupulous, unprofessional and _unwanted _territory.

Or was she? Didn't she want this, at least on some level? _No!,_ she yelled at herself. _I don't want this. _She could date, see, _kiss_ whoever she wanted. _ Except Booth. Not that I want him,_ She argued inwardly.

She was continuing this line of thought when her phone rang. She was grateful for the interruption and basically jumped at the phone. She checked that caller ID; it wasn't Booth. She was safe.

"Brennan," she said with her usual professionalism.

"Doctor Brennan!" Brennan instantly recognized Hodgin's voice. She let the silence hang in hopes that he woiuld tell her why he had called. It worked.

"I called because I found a fingerprint on the 'something' that was found in the victim's pocket." Brennan made a 'go on' noise.

"I ran it through all the criminal databases, but couldn't find anything. So I tried a different approach. The fingerprint was far too small to be that of a full grown adult, or even a teenager. So I wasn't surprised to find that it wasn't in any of the databases. I mean, even for a juvenile offender, it's a tiny print."

"It's a child's print," Brennan confirmed. "Is it Maxim's?" She struggled to see where this was going.

"Nope. Close, though. I checked, then, with a friend who works for social services. She gave me access to all records there. See, some schools, even pre-schools, require all their students and parents to be fingerprinted. Which is really just a way for the government to have a hold on all the most influential and rich people, so they can use this identification system later to-"

"Hodgins!"

"Oh. Right. Anyway, this print belonged to one of those students." He paused, and she could almost see his eyes widening, his grin. "A Lilian Tucker." There was silence for a minute. Hodgins mistook Brennan's shock for misunderstanding.

He explained. "Seems the Tucker's had another child _after_ Maxim died. But here's the strange part: Lilian is only six. Maxim went missing in nineteen ninety-seven; four years _before_ Lilian was born."

"Yeah, Booth and I met her earlier today, when we went to talk to the parents..." She let her speech trail off, deep in thought.

A new voice joined the conversation. "_So..._What exactly is going _on_ with Booth, Sweetie? And where _are_ you?" Angela was using her best 'lie to me if you dare' voice.

"Hey, Ange. And we had to stay the night here because Booth was being stubborn." Brennan sighed. She was not getting out of this easily.

"Stubborn? Stubborn about _what_?" Pure innuendo. Brennan decided again to keep her dignity intact and ignored the suggestiveness of the comment, much to Angela's disappointment.

"Apparently it would be easier to stay here, rather than travel back tomorrow." She heard Angela speak to Hodgins.

_"I swear to God, if those two don't hurry up and-" _ Angela was cut off by something. Whether by a hand or a mouth, Brennan didn't want to know. She heard giggling.

"Hodgins, have you identified the 'something' from the victim's pocket, yet?" The giggling halted, and she heard Angela groan in complaint. "Um, no, Doctor Brennan, not yet. It is some kind of paper, but it's got a strange chemical make-up and appearance." He paused and Brennan heard typing.

He started again. "The paper appears to contain trace amounts of iodine and all the chemicals used in paint thinner; not found in most papers."

"You've tried running it through the computer for matches?"

"Of course, Doctor Brennan. Nothing matches."

"Okay, Hodgins, thanks. Call me if there's anything new?"

"Sure thi-ow!" Brennan heard shuffling. "Stop pushing me!" She heard Angela laugh, then she came onto the phone. "Could'a just asked..." Hodgins mumbled in the background.

"Bren, I love you, but honestly, I worry about you."

"Angela," Brennan sighed. "I'm only here for one night. I'm not in any sort of danger-"

"That's not what I'm talking about, Brennan. I'm talking about you and Booth."

"Ange..." Warning.

"Bren," she began in the same tone. "There is _something_ there. You know what I'm talking about. Hell, _everyone_ knows what I'm talking about. But you two, Bren, belong together, whether you believe in that sort of thing or not.

"But you two, Brennan, _belong_ together. I don't know what it is that is keeping you as...whatever you are; but screw it!"

"Ange..." she breathed. She was beyond fighting at this point.

"Make a move, Brennan." And with that, Angela hung up.


	15. The Boy Next Door

**Spoilers: **Nope.

**Disclaimer: **Huh. I just got a cold in the middle of Summer. It sucks...Any remedies?

**Author's Note: **Um, there isn't reall much to say about this chapter. You'll have to see for yourself, I suppose! Thankyou again to all my reviewers; you keep me writing! Here's chapter fifteen, enjoy:

* * *

Brennan sat with the phone dead in her hands for what seemed like an hour, mulling over this print and the abnormalities in the paper makeup. By the time she realized it was eight o'clock, and she was starving, she had also come to the realization that she had to tell Booth about these revelations regarding the fingerprint and paper.

_Uh oh_, she thought. She really didn't want to face him, but she knew it would be unfair and unprofessional _not_ to tell him straight away, awkward or not.

She decided to venture out, tell Booth the news, then escape to find some food, as fast as possible. She briefly considered calling him, but decided that was a little too childish.

Taking a deep breath, she left her room, subconsciously fiddling with her hair. _Here goes...,_ she thought as she knocked softly on the door. "Booth?" No response. "Booth, it's me..." _Maybe he went out?_

The door opened suddenly to reveal Booth, wearing a towel and a sopping white t-shirt, hair dripping down his face and neck. Her mind was torn between two images; one of Booth the night before, standing, staring at her silently, crying. The other involving certain actions she tried to block out of her brain.

Brennan studied him subconsciously, and noticed that he had goose-bumps. "You're cold. Must be the air out here. We should close the door," she stated obviously. Booth flushed red, and Brennan looked confused, trying to find the root of Booth's embarrassment, when se realized that the temperature inside the room was no warmer than the temperature outside.

Booth moved aside, holding the door open for her, his hair dripping on her arm. The water was freezing. _A cold shower?_ She thought, confused. Suddenly, she realized the implications there, and turned bright red, hiding her face.

Booth sighed with relief. At least the shower had worked by the time she had arrived. He could think of no way he could have explained _that_ to her. As if he hadn't done enough as it was. Still, he had no idea why she was there. He hoped to God she didn't want to have 'a talk'.

He simultaneously thanked God that she hadn't run, like he had expected.

He had a lot to say, bur he held it to let her speak first. She might be here 'on business', and he didn't want to make an ass of himself. Again.

She ducked her head, blushing slightly. In the dim room, she was exquisite, and Booth had a hard time ignoring her. _Stop it, Seeley, before you need another shower!_ He scolded himself.

But when she looked up to meet his eyes, the voice shut up. A sort of electricity passed between them, bringing unwanted emotions on hard and fast. Both tore their eyes away.

"Um, Hodgins just called." _Lame._

"Oh," was all he could think to say. _Brilliant, Seeley._

"They found a piece of paper with a strange chemical makeup." Booth made a 'go on' gesture, now completely focused on the case. Brennan continued.

"There was a fingerprint on the paper. The fingerprint belongs to Lili Tucker."

"What? How is that possible?" Booth sat on the edge of his bed. Brennan remained standing; that was not a safe place for the two of them right now.

"Well," she began, "It's possible only if the body was actually _buried _less than four years ago. Probably closer to two years, considering Lili's age and size." Booth sat on the bed in front of her, frowning, obviously thinking extremely hard.

"The paper," he said bluntly.

"What about it?"

"What were the..._things_ that weren't supposed to be there?" Brennan was curious to see where he was going with this, so she told him straight away.

"Trace amounts of iodine and paint thinner." There was silence for a few seconds. Brennan watched Booth think.

"They put iodine in water in some states, don't they?"

"Yes...? You think that the paper may have been dropped in water and paint thinner?" She was almost incredulous.

"No, no, no. I'm thinking that it was home made paper. Every tool shed and garage in the country has turps. And water, well, is water," Booth stated, eyebrows raised in a question. "What do you think?"

Brennan thought for a few seconds, the slowly broke into a smile. "That would do it! I remember making paper at school when I was about Lili's age."

_Of course she does_, he thought proudly. "That would explain the fingerprint!" Brennan nodded.

Booth stood up so fast he almost lost his towel. Brennan laughed, all awkwardness forgotten, replaced by excitement. Though what exactly about, they couldn't be sure. At least, not yet. But they were getting there.

Booth moved into the bathroom, excusing himself, and Brennan took his place on the edge of the bed, unsure what to do next.

"Hey." From the bathroom. "You think they have Thai food in Virginia?" Brennan laughed slightly at Booth's sarcasm.

"They better, because I'm starving!" she replied. With that, Booth walked out of the bathroom, dressed and hair brushed. Brennan looked at his appearance, and asked sulkily, "Where did you get those?" She pointed to his jeans.

"Oh, I always keep a spare pair in my car. You know, in case you end up getting me covered in human goop, or something," he said, grinning cheerily. Brennan matched his grin.

"Occupational hazard," she retorted playfully. Booth chuckled.

"Shall we?" He moved across the room and held the door open for her, standing aside. Brennan just smiled and nodded in response.

To her, this was the beauty of their relationship: one minute they were yelling, the next they were purely professional, the next they were just two friends, having a good time. Brennan didn't know if they could handle adding a new dimension to their relationship. But she was glad he didn't want to have 'a talk'.

_That_ she couldn't have handled.

To Brennan's surprise, as they got out of the life, Booth slung his arm around he shoulders, winking at the receptionist, and only half playfully, and very deliberately, pulled Brennan close. She shot him a confused look.

"For Regan," he smirked into her ear, nodding towards the blonde from earlier. _Liar_, he told himself, _You are so going to hell._


	16. Dinner Conversation

**Spoilers:** Nope!

**Disclaimer: **Blah. I don't own Bones, Thai food, cell phones, fingerprint technology, need I go on?

**Author's Note:** Well, hello again! Okay...about this chapter...I really like this one. It's sort of cute (major FLUFF), if you ask me, but then, I may be bragging. Or in denial about how bad it really _is_. This chapter was typed at seven thirty in the morning, after about two hours sleep, listening to Boy George and the Culture Club. So seriously, feel free to reprimand me if I do something stupid in this chapter! Okay...long Author's Note, here. I'll let you get on with reading. Thank you to all my reviewers!

* * *

"Okay, so we'll go see the Tuckers again tomorrow," Booth said through a mouthful of fried rice. 

"Only this time, we have to speak to the whole family," Brennan finished, taking a drink. Booth nodded once, confirming that that was what he was thinking.

There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes, until Booth spoke what they were both thinking. "But how did Lili's fingerprint _get_ there?"

Brennan looked up thoughtfully. "Well, the only thing that I can think of that makes any logical sense is that the Tucker's, or one of them, kept Maxim's body somewhere for up to four years, possibly longer, _then_ buried him at the park. Lili's paper was probably dropped out of a pocket, or something." She didn't look too sure. Booth thought for a second.

"Who could-? Why keep the body? Where was it until now? Who buried it? Who _kept_ it?" Booth looked imploringly at Brennan, who shrugged sympathetically. "It just doesn't fit. Even _if_ one of the Tucker's...accidentally killed him, or something, there would be no way they could keep the body."

"I know what you're saying, but-"

"I've got it!" Booth nearly yelled, making Brennan jump slightly. His eyes sparkled with excitement. "Is it possible that he was buried, years ago, dug up, then _reburied_? The paper, like you said, being accidental."

Brennan was silent for a minute, chewing thoughtfully. "It's possible, but highly improbable." She set to explaining. "I don't think it is, because the position the body was in when it was found was...what you would call complete, I suppose. By that I mean that if someone had, they would have had to rebury him _before_ decomposition had completely finished, because the bones were all in the right places."

"All the fractures were intact, too, which is just further evidence of what I was just saying. If the body had been moved, to remain so intact, it could only have been moved, in ideal conditions, up to, say, eighteen months of the original burial."

She took another mouthful. Booth could tell she wasn't finished yet, so he remained silent. She continued. "That said, the depth at which he was buried, and if he was buried in very dry soil lengthens this timeframe." Booth looked askance at her. "If he was buried in such conditions, complete skeletonization could take up to three years."

She paused and Booth suddenly remembered why he admired her so much; he could almost _see_ her brain working, making connections. She started talking again, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"But I can't be sure. I mean, it's a workable timeframe. I didn't have very much time with the remains. Which is your fault, by the way," she added, feigning anger. Booth chuckled and rolled his eyes.

Brennan held up her hand in an 'I have an idea' motion and Booth was silent as she pulled out her phone and dialed.

"Hodgins! Booth and I were just talking; is it possible that the body was buried twice?"

"Doctor Brennan, hi. I don't know. It's...possible..."

"Okay, I want you to go through the soil samples from immediately around the remains, and see if it is all consistent. Get Zach to re-examine the fractured bones to see if there's any sign of relocation."

"Sure, Doctor Brennan. Anything else?" Brennan looked at Booth, suddenly remembering their earlier conversation.

"Oh! Yes! Could the anomalies in the paper be explained if the paper was homemade?" Hodgins paused, obviously thinking, or checking something.

"Yes! Doctor Brennan, you're a genius! I've been working on that all day!" Brennan heard typing and a few distant shouts. She looked again at Booth, who was half looking at her, half stuffing himself with mee krob. She stifled a smile.

"Actually, Hodgins, it was Booth who thought of it," she said, smiling encouragingly at Booth, as if he were a child. Booth smiled back and then continued to shovel food into his mouth. _Child's about right_, she thought.

"Dude! Tell Booth he rocks!" There was a pause. "Wait. Angela wants to talk to you. At least she's being civilized this time and _asking_." Brennan smiled as she heard a _whack_ and an 'ow' coming from Hodgins.

"Hi, Brennan," Angela drawled. She was really asking if anything had happened yet.

"Hey, Ange. You want to tell me something?"

"Actually, I want to speak to Booth. Hand him the phone."

"Angela."

"_Bye, Brennan_!" Brennan sighed dramatically. She mumbled 'bye' and handed her phone to Booth. Booth's face lit up.

"Angela! How's my second favourite girl?" He looked pointedly at Brennan, pointing at her, mouthing 'number one'. Brennan smiled and forced back a blush.

Angela said something and Booth's face fell slowly, sulking. "But-" Angela kept talking.

"Fine. No. Well, sort of. Yes. No! _No!_" Booth was monosyllabic, Angela was still speaking and Brennan was totally clueless. Booth sighed deeply, dramatically.

"Okay, fine. I will. No, I will _not_ promise! Because you don't just 'promise' something like that! It's not that I don't _want_ to...It's just...Okay. Okay. Bye, Angela." Booth's voice had become less and less enthusiastic as the conversation, albeit one sided had gone on.

He handed the phone back to Brennan. "Don't ask," he mumbled grumpily. Brennan smiled. Whatever it was, Angela had won. _As usual._

They continued eating for a while in silence.

"Hodgins said to tell you that 'you rock'!" she said, mimicking Hodgins' earlier excitement, punching the air with her fist. Booth laughed at her outburst, pretending to dodge her fist, which was nowhere near him.

Booth put his hand to his heart, mock-proudly. "Well, you know, I _am_ wonderful." He gave her his Charm Smile. She rolled her eyes, and without thinking, pegged a piece of carrot at him. Booth blinked then looked at her, eyes wide, mouth a perfect 'o'.

"Did you just?" He looked between her and the piece of carrot on the floor. _Bones. Bones? Bones is picking a food-fight with me..._ He decided to play her game. "You...you..." Booth stuttered, picking up a piece or broccoli and throwing it at her across the table. Brennan gave a very un-Brennan-like squeal as she dodged it.

Brennan picked up a piece of something unidentifiable and prepared to throw it at Booth, fully intending on hitting him this time, when a young man in an apron came to the table.

"Um, I'm going to have to ask you to leave..." He shot a glance behind him at some other apron-clad teenagers. _Lost the coin toss_, Booth surmised. Brennan looked at the boy, shocked.

"We're sorry, man." He leaned closer to the boy. "She just gets a little bit carried away sometimes," he whispered just loud enough to let Brennan hear. Just as she was about to retort his comment, he got up and grabbed her elbow, standing her up swiftly, then grabbing her by the shoulders, pushing her towards the door.

As soon as they got outside, she pegged the unidentifiable food at him. "Hey!" he yelled, pointing a finger at her. "Bad, Bones. Bad. And here I was thinking you were civilized. _Mature_."

"You started it," she replied, cocking an eyebrow. She was sure she had won this one. Booth looked offended.

"I did _not_! _You_ were the one who threw a carrot at me!" he said, incredulous. _She's accusing me!_

"Well, I wouldn't have had to if you weren't being so cocky!" There was a second of silence before they both laughed at the absurdity of the argument, and he slung his arm around her shoulders. She welcomed the warmth of an extra body, leaning into him slightly.

She only slightly regretted walking to the restaurant.

"Cold?' he asked, concern in his voice.

"Not anymore," she smiled up at him. He tightened his arm around her anyway, smiling back. She rolled her eyes dramatically, making him laugh. She could feel his laugh reverberating in his chest and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

They walked on for about ten minutes in silence, until Booth suddenly stopped, surprising Brennan. She turned around to look at him, slightly worried, until she saw his smile. "What?" she asked, bemused. Booth's grin widened.

"We didn't pay," he stated simply, bursting into laughter. Brennan was shocked; she hadn't realized.

"Well, we should go back and-" Brennan was cut off by Booth's finger over her lips. It wasn't the gesture that had made her stop, it was the contact. Her stomach flipped. Booth didn't move his finger.

"No, Bones," he said quietly. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "That's the fun part."

She shuddered as he pulled away, his rough jaw brushing hers. When he met her eyes he was smiling like a naughty teen. Brennan laughed. "You..." she said, shaking her head. Booth smiled proudly in response.

"I'd hate to have seen you as a teenager, Booth."

"Aw, come on, you would have loved me!"

_I would have been _allowed_ to,_ she thought dryly, instantly erasing the thought. "Unlikely," she muttered, instead, turning around and continuing their walk back to the hotel. He caught up to her, still smiling, and slung his arm back over her shoulders.

"So," Brennan ventured. "What did Angela have to say to you?"

"Ah, Bones, Bones, Bones," he said mock-sadly, shaking his head and pulling her closer. "You know I'm never gonna tell you that."

"Come on! She's my best friend!" she whined.

"Ha!" Booth scoffed. "Not gonna happen."

"But-"

"Not gonna happen," Booth teased in a sing-song voice.

"Please?"

"Nope. Never."

"Boo-"

"No."

"A-"

"No."

Brennan opened her mouth.

"No."

* * *

This little violet button here is calling you. It wants you to press it. You know you want to. 


	17. Take Two

**Spoilers: **Nope.

**Disclaimer:** I don't really care anymore, to be honest.

**Author's Note: **Okay, well, this is the last of the hand-written chapters that I had to retype (thank the Devil). This was one of the hardest, too. I actually had a bit of a hard time in the first half. I don't have all that much more to say about this chapter, actually. Except, have lots of fun reading it, and thank you to all my reviewwers. This chapter is dedcated to Bethany, who helped me out when I didn't have the internet to check things, and is in the process of writing a wonderful fic. There is a link to her profile in mine, so go check her out!

* * *

Brennan woke up at six-thirty the next morning, out of pure habit, and wrapped her blankets tighter around her. She suddenly regretted taking Booth's sleeping advice. Wrapping her sheet around her, she grabbed all her clothes on the way to the bathroom, double checking she had everything before closing the door. 

She cranked the hot water, dropped the sheet on the floor, and stepped, relieved, into the shower, thankful that she could at least see through one aspect of personal hygiene.

As she washed her hair, her mind wandered, as it usually did; one string of thoughts led to another. Dinner the night before, Lili's unexplained fingerprint, questionable hotel-shampoo, Maxim's tiny body, Zach's solo investigation back in D.C.

She'd just finished getting dressed when she heard a knock a the door. She shot a quick glance at the mirror before hurrying out. Booth stood at the peephole, grinning stupidly, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feel. Brennan smiled as she opened the door.

"Ready to go, Booth?" Brennan grabbed her coat and moved to go out the door. Booth held up his hands.

"Whoa, whoa, _Bones._ It's only seven o'clock!" She looked at him blankly. "No one but us is awake yet," he explained.

"Then why are you here?" Brennan was as blunt as usual. Booth grinned a Charm Smile, scaring Brennan slightly. _He wants something..._

"Because, Bones, I brought you something." He flashed his eyebrows and reached behind him. "Close your eyes," he sang. Brennan narrowed her eyes cautiously.

"Booth..." she warned.

"Don't you trust me?" Booth put on his most innocent face. He looked amazingly like Parker, and Brennan couldn't refuse him. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes dramatically, then closed them. Only seconds later Booth excitedly whispered an 'open'. Brennan opened her eyes and came face to face with a bright blue toothbrush.

"Booth," she laughed. She found his melodramatic attitude extremely amusing. She took the toothbrush from his hands, smiling in thanks.

"Well, I'm going to brush my teeth," Brennan stated. Booth checked his watch. Seven-oh-five.

"Okay, I'll meet you in the lobby in...ten?" Booth suggested. Brennan nodded.

"Sure. Oh, and thanks, Booth."

He grinned happily and bowed slightly, making her smile. "You're welcome, Bones." And with that, he spun on his heels and walked to the elevator, humming obliviously.

Brennan closed the door quietly and suddenly realized that this morning's 'thank you' and 'you're welcome' were not at all like the ones the morning before: this time, they'd both meant it. Then, it had just been something to fill an awkward silence.

Ten minutes later, Brennan walked into the lobby, happy to be clean again. She looked around for Booth and spotted him standing by the door, chatting with a young maid. She rolled her eyes as the girl laughed flirtatiously, but Brennan stayed put.

She was suddenly jealous of the girl; being allowed to flirt with Booth at will, unhidingly. Brennan looked daggers at the oblivious girl, and clenched her jaw, gritting her teeth slightly.

Then she remembered the toothbrush Booth had delivered to her door not half an hour ago. She smiled. _Yes, but he _cares_ about me._

Emboldened by this, she approached the two. Booth's eyes flicked over to Brennan and caught hers; Brennan was smirking, Booth went slightly red. The girl finally noticed this and followed hid gaze, quickly excusing herself and hurrying in the opposite direction. Brennan hadn't realized before that Booth was holding something, and she laughed under her breath as she realized what it was: a paper bad and two coffees.

Looking slightly guilty, Booth approached her, handing her a coffee, taking a sip of his own. Booth opened his mouth to explain then shut it again.

"Having a nice early-morning coquette, there, Booth?" Brennan asked, smirking. Booth choked on his coffee, nearly spitting it out. Brennan smiled, proud of her timing.

"Okay, Bones, if you're gonna say something like that, at least say it in words, you know, _people_ know." He raised his eyebrows. "Coquette?"

"It means flirt, Booth."

"..Oh...Okay, we off then?" Brennan was not at all surprised or confused by the sudden change of subject. She nodded her assent and they made their way to the car. Just before getting in, Booth opened the bag and pulled out a bagel, shoving it in his mouth as he opened the car door.

Brennan was already in her seat.

"Hey, where's mine?" she asked, pouting as he started the car.

"Huh? Oh, I figured since you normally don't eat breakfast, I wouldn't bother," he said through a mouthful of bagel, teasing her. Booth pulled out off the kerb, yanking the bag away from Brennan as she made a grab for it.

"Give me the bag, Booth," she said sternly. He only grinned in response and took another bite. Brennan sat still, sulking for a few minutes, letting Booth relax, then reached out and grabbed the bag out of Booth's hand. She made a small cry of victory.

"It's your favourite," Booth said as she opened the bag. She looked over at his grinning and mischievous face and rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but smile back.

-

As they pulled up outside the Tucker's house they briefly ran through their plan and summed up all the evidence they had.

"Okay, let's go," said Brennan, taking off her seatbelt.

"_Onward! Charge!_" Booth mocked, throwing his fist in the air like Superman. Brennan laughed as Booth accidentally smacked his fist on the windshield.

"Wuss," she muttered as they walked up the path, Booth rubbing his fist gently. He was about to retort her comment when the front door opened and Lili came rushing out yelling, "Agent Booth! Miss Brennan!"

"Actually, it's _Doct_-" she stopped as Booth shot her a funny look. "You know what? Just call me 'Tempe'," Brennan amended. Lili thought for a second, as if committing it to memory, or weighing her options before nodding violently, grinning. Booth looked at Brennan and nodded, something odd showing in his face, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.

Brennan frowned slightly. _What was that? He looked at me like...No. Not that. _She couldn't bring herself to admit what she was thinking.

"Tempe!" They were both brought back to reality by Lili's statement. "Okay!" She grabbed them both by the hand, standing between them, and pulled them towards the door. Booth looked between the little girl and His Bones, and an odd emotion came over him. He couldn't name it, but it was both pleasing and terrifying at the same time.

_What is this? It's like Bones is my...Shut up, Seeley! It's not going to happen, _Booth argued with himself. Suddenly Lili stopped, making Booth snap out of it. Booth and Brennan looked up.

A boy of about eighteen stood in the doorway, blocking their path.

"Lili, come here." He motioned slightly with his hand. Lili looked between the boy and Booth before hurrying to the boy's side. The boy put a protective arm around Lili. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice hostile. Booth stepped out, offering his hand, his badge in the other.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI. This is me partner, Doctor Brennan. He paused, studying the boy. "You must be Lachlan."

* * *

Thanks to everone who pushed the little violet button last time. Now wasn't it fun? Don't you want to experience the high again?

All you have to do it press this little button!


	18. Meet the Tuckers

**Spoilers: **Aaarrhhh.

**Disclaimer: **I was originally going to have a shoot-up, or bomb or something in this chapter, but then my brain kicked in and I decided not to.

**Author's Note: **To state for the record (and to prove my emotionally traumatic state at the moment) I would like to say that I just found a pair of opened scissors on the floor, under my desk, in a place where it would have been very easy to slice my foot open without ever having _seen_ the danger. I tell you: my house is crazy. I also have to admit that this chapter gets us virtually nowhere in the grand scheme of things, but still.

* * *

Lachlan took the badge from Booth's hand, eyeing it cautiously. Handing it back to Booth he stepped aside to let them pass, still holding on to Lili. She jumped a little, and he picked her up, smiling at her fondly. Lachlan led Booth and Brennan to the dining room, where his mother had led them the day before. 

As they walked, Brennan took in his appearance; slim black jeans, navy blue t-shirt with something that resembled a green bear on it, and a mass of thick brown hair pulled up into a ponytail. He looked too clean to be an eighteen year old boy.

He put Lili down and turned to face her, smiling again. "Sweetie, why don't you get Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan a drink? I'm sure they'd like one." Lili cast a glance at Booth and Brennan before asking what they'd like. Lili walked into the kitchen, still in sight, and set to the task of pouring drinks.

Lachlan watched her, and began to speak. "Mom said you came by yesterday," he said, still looking at Lili. "About Max." He looked Booth in the eye, now. "She said you found him. What...Can...How did..." He took a deep breath. "How'd he die?" Brennan could hear the pain in his voice; he was struggling to speak.

She really did not want to answer this. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth. But Booth saw her face, and spoke first. "He, ah, he was beaten; kicked." Booth couldn't think of a nicer way to say it, yet he knew how cruel what he had just said really was.

Lachlan let out a breath quickly, as if he, himself, had been kicked. He put a hand to his mouth, trying to physically shove back his sobs, and wrapped the other hand around his waist. He shut his eyes tightly, and Brennan and Booth could see the tears fall down his cheeks.

Forgotten, Lili came out of the kitchen. "Do you want-" She stopped mid-sentence, upon seeing her brother. She ran over to him and pressed herself against his side, wrapping her arms around him. She looked at his face questioningly, and he grabbed her into his lap, hiding his face in her hair.

Brennan grabbed Booth's wrist, holding it tightly, still watching the siblings. Booth put a hand over hers.

"It's okay, Lachie. Don't cry," she said sadly, arms wrapped around his neck. "Don't cry, Lachie." Lili let out a soft sob, and Lachlan held her tighter.

Booth and Brennan looked at each other. Booth nodded towards the hallway and Brennan and he left to give the boy a little privacy.

"Dear God," Booth sighed as soon as they were out of hearing range. He looked over at Brennan, and could see that she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. He laid a hand on her shoulder, ducking his head to catch her eyes. "You okay?"

Brennan smiled weakly. "Mm. Fine." Booth smiled sympathetically in return, removing his hand.

"At least we can cross him off our suspect list. No one reacts like that if they already know the answer."

Brennan nodded, struggling to control her voice. "He would have been too small anyway, to inflict that sort of damage. The strength it would take to do that, even to someone so small, is more-"

"Agent Booth?" Lachlan called from the other room hoarsely. Booth and Brennan quickly made their way into the other room, taking their seats again. Lili was still curled up in his lap, eyes red, head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. It's just that, after not having herad anything for so long..."

"It's okay," Brennan said quietly. "You don't have to apologize." Lachlan nodded his head slightly.

"Where are your parents?" Booth asked, suddenly realizing that they weren't there.

"They're just running a bit late, doing the grocery shopping. They...They didn't tell me you were coming by so early. I was already awake because I have study group today. I was just waiting here with Lili 'til they got home."

Booth nodded. "What are you studying?"

"Aeronautic engineering." Booth whistled through his teeth. "It sounds boring, but it's kinda my thing, you know?" He sounded not the least bit interested.

"No, it sounds..._hard_." Booth smiled, a look of slight awe on his face. Brennan couldn't tell if he was putting it on or not.

Lachlan smiled forcedly. "Yeah, that's why our study group runs so early. It takes us the whole day to _begin_."

There was a pause before Booth began his inquiry. "I'm sorry, Lachlan, but there's a few questions we have to ask you. If anything's too hard, just tell me, but you have to try to answer them all, okay?" Lachlan nodded, mute, again.

"Lili, go play upstairs, huh?"

She looked at Lachlan, indecisive. "Can Tempe come with me again?" Brennan looked over at Booth, then at Lachlan, then finally at Lili. Lachlan spoke again.

"Sweetie, I think Doctor Brennan needs to stay here with Agent Booth and I for a few more minutes, 'kay?" Lili looked around at the three adults for a few seconds, then nodded her head resignedly.

"'Kay."

"I'll come and play with you when we're done, Lils."

At this she perked up a little and nodded, skipping out of the room. The three sat and watched her exit the room obliviously. Booth turned to Lachlan.

"She's a sweetheart," Booth said with a little smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, she is. Agent Booth? I don't really remember much more about..._that day_ than I did when I was little. I mean, I was only eight; I wasn't really paying attention to much...I've hated myself for it ever since."

"Sure, yeah, I know, man, you just gotta remember what you can. Besides, with the new evidence, _anything_ could be useful. Even what you told the cops ten years ago." This seemed to encourage Lachlan a little, and he began telling them what they wanted to know.

"We were playing, the three of us, Max and my big sister and I, in the snow. Mom and Dad were sitting on a picnic mat watching us; laughing...Everything was so _normal_. Then...Then my sister and I went over to Mom to get a drink, and Max stayed put." Lachlan shut his eyes tightly. When he reopened them, they were full of tears.

"When we went back to play...he...he was gone."

Suddenly they heard the front door open. "Lachlan? Lili? We're home!" All three turned to face the doorway of the dining room. Grace and James Tucker entered the room, each laden with numerous shopping bags. Grace dropped hers in shock as she spotted Booth and Brennan.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just wasn't aware you were coming so early," Grace apologized to Booth as he stooped to help her with the bags she had dropped. Brennan smiled inwardly. _Always the gentleman, Booth_, she thought.

Brennan stood to introduce them to Max's father. "James Tucker?" He nodded with a quiet affirmation. "I'm Doctor Temperance Brennan, this is my partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth." Booth and Brennan were both surprised at the feelings it brought, having their introductory-roles switched.

He shook her hand, and nodded to Booth, setting his groceries down. "You're here about Max. My wife told me you came yesterday." Brennan nodded. James looked suddenly, almost angrily, at Lachlan. "Where's Lili?"

"She's in her room, playing. I sent her up there a while ago," Lachlan responded, eyes diverted.

"Good. She doesn't need to see this." At this, Booth shot Brennan an odd look that she couldn't pick.

Both Tuckers took a seat at the table with Lachlan, and Brennan and Booth resumed their seats opposite them. As Booth again began his routine questioning, Brennan's phone rang. She excused herself and walked into the hall.

"Brennan."

"It's Hodgins. I found something."

* * *

Okay, so tell me what you thought of this chapter. That is, if you got this far...I'd really love feedback, because I'm not sure about this chapter. Any suggestions are valued highly! Thank you for reading! 


	19. Case Closed

**Spoilers: Almost done!**

**Disclaimer: **Sob, sob

**Author's Note: **Okay, another night of irrefutable insomnia and here is the next chapter for your viewing pleasure:

* * *

Brennan walked back into the room, and whispered something in Booth's ear; he forced back the feeling that brought. _Now is _not _the time, Seeley!_ He scolded himself. He looked at the Tuckers for a few seconds before asking, "Mr. Tucker, what size shoes do you wear?" 

"Can I ask _why_, Agent Booth? What relevance does this have to my son's case?" He grabbed his wife's hand, nostrils flaring in anger and pain; he was trying to act strong. Booth sympathized, though couldn't help but suspect him slightly. Gut instinct.

"May I see your shoe, Mr. Tucker?" Brennan asked cautiously.

"Not until you tell me _why_." He looked at her angrily, and Booth's protective instinct kicked in slightly. He spoke to John Tucker calmly, diverting his attention from His Bones.

"Mr. Tucker, I'm afraid that we have just uncovered some new evidence as to who could possibly have killed Max." Booth looked warily between the two older Tuckers, gauging what their reactions may be, and how to put 'it' to them. _I hate this part_.

"Mr. and Mrs. Tucker...your son was beaten violently," Booth said slowly, wincing slightly when both their façades began to crumble. Booth was shocked when Brennan put a hand on his forearm to silence him, and began speaking for him, quickly taking her hand away.

"My lab is the one which has been conducting the investigation into your son's death. We found some fracture patterns that could only be explained if Maxim was kicked," Brennan said slowly. It surprised Booth to note how kindly she spoke to the family, compared with a year ago, two years ago; Brennan was..._outwardly_ compassionate.

"Stomped, actually." _At least, _most_ of the time, _Booth thought somewhat painfully. Grace shuddered visibly, and Lachlan grabbed her hand. Brennan continued. "We can tell by the fracture pattern the size of the shoe of the...culprit."

Booth watched the anger flare in John's face. "To eliminate you, Sir," he said quickly, shooting a warning look at Brennan. The anger waned a little, and John reached down, producing a shoe.

"I wear a size eleven," he said bluntly. Booth examined the shoe, then handed it to Brennan. Brennan took the shoe with a confused look.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" she whispered confusedly.

"Do your..._thing_. I don't know, make him scared. I don't like him," Booth whispered back as Mr. Tucker looked on, slight worry etched in his face. Booth narrowed his eyes discreetly, frowning.

"Excuse me for a minute, please," Booth said, before standing up and moving to the hall. Brennan followed him with her eyes, curious again. _What is he...?_

Brennan followed Booth's instructions carefully, studying the shoe, and then muttering to herself as she did in the lab. "The size is consistent." She turned to John. "Do you wear a wide shoe most of the time?"

"Um...I'm not sure..." his eyes darted. Brennan confirmed Booth's suspicion. She, too, thought he was guilty.

"No, my husband wears a narrow fit shoe," Grace put in, shaking her head quickly. Brennan looked at her, confused, and she explained. "I do most of his shopping for him. Men, you know," she joked feebly. Brennan smiled appropriately. Grace turned to Lachlan. "Why don't you go play with Lili, Dear," she suggested. It was more than a suggestion. Lachlan nodded, squeezing her hand once more before leaving.

He nodded at Brennan as he left the room, passing Booth in the doorway. Brennan looked at Booth questioningly; his face was a mask of solemnity, his phone was in his hand, and he was looking directly at John Tucker. Brennan nodded to Booth: yes, possible. Booth nodded back.

Both Tuckers stayed silent through this wordless collaboration, a look of worry plastered on Grace's face, a look of wariness on John's. Booth took a step towards John. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come with me, Sir."

Grace's head snapped up, and John rose from his seat hastily, glowering. "You think I did this?" he seethed.

"Sir, at this point, I don't know what to think. We just need you to come with us for some routine questioning," Booth said carefully, professionally.

"Agent Booth." It was an insult. "I have already been questioned by the police as to my son's whereabouts _ten_ years ago!"

"Mr. Tucker, that is precisely why I have to bring you in. Ten years is a long time. The kind of forensics available now...The fact that we now know your son is, in fact, deceased..." Booth didn't want, or need, to elaborate. John turned to his wife, a look of utter fury in his eyes.

"Did you tell them this yesterday when they came? Is that why they're here? It's because of _you_!" John yelled, slapping his wife across the face, knocking her to the floor. He raised his foot. Booth had John on the floor in cuffs before he had time to complete his act.

"John Tucker, you are under arrest for assault!" Booth yelled, yanking him up so they were face-to-face; Booth's phone was instantly at his ear. Brennan was helping Grace up by the time Lachlan had appeared in the doorway.

"Mom!" he cried, helping Brennan. He turned to his father. "What did you do?" he screamed. His father only smiled.

Brennan ran to the freezer to get some ice, calling back over her shoulder to Lachlan to distract him from his father.

"It looks like she hit her head on the way down; she's bleeding, and I think she has a slight concussion. Lachlan, take her into the living room, and set her down carefully. Don't let her fall asleep, though, whatever you do, okay?" Lachlan nodded vigorously. "Good, I'll be one minute." He nodded again.

As Brennan walked out of the kitchen, she cast one last glance at Booth and John, who were standing barely six inches apart, seething. A look of pure hatred was etched in Booth's face, and Brennan wondered for a minute if Booth was going to slug him. She turned away and walked to the lounge room. _Let him,_ she thought.

"Hey," she said quietly. "The police should be here soon, okay?" She handed Lachlan the ice. "Here. Keep this on her wound. Where's Lili?"

"I put her in the music room; it's sound-proof," Lachlan said, voice shaking, nodding up the stairs. "I...I play drums," he said with a weak smile. Brennan nodded, she could hear sirens in the distance.

"Stay here," she warned as she ran up the stairs, again casting a look in on Booth. They were standing in exactly the same position, but Booth was whispering something acidly into John's face. She wished he would just hit him.

Brennan pushed open the door to what she assumed was the music room room. She was right. Brennan was expecting to find Lili in a state of shock, or at least crying, so she was stunned for a second when she walked in and found Lili lying on a couch happily reading a picture book, holding a doll.

Lili grinned widely when she saw her, and her breath gushed out in relief; she had the sudden urge to hug the girl. Instead, she placed herself on the edge of the couch and began talking to her, stroking her hair.

"Hey, Lili!" she said as cheerily as she could. "What are you reading?"

"_Sleeping Beauty_. It's my favourite!" she replied contentedly, sitting up and offering the book to Brennan. For a few seconds, Brennan was stunned. She couldn't figure out why Lili was giving her the book. "Um, thank you..." she said lamely. She wasn't used to this.

"Will you read it to me? Lachie was, but then he had to go...He told me not to come out 'til he came to get me. I think he was sad, like before. He doesn't like to be sad in front of me, because it makes me sad, too." She leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in Brennan's ear. "He pretends not to cry, because he's a big boy, but I know he does."

The confusion dancing in Lili's eyes was unmistakable. Brennan smiled and whispered back, "Want to know a secret?" Lili nodded, eyes wide. "So does Agent Booth." Lili giggled, then laid her head in Brennan's lap; Brennan's eyes widened and she stiffened ever so slightly.

"Will you read it to me?" Brennan looked at her, nodding dumbly.

_If only she knew..._ As she started reading the story that she knew so well, she let her mind wander. What would happen to this family after this? They still had to _prove_ that John had killed Maxim. _How could he-No. _She wouldn't let her mind go there.

She couldn't.

She worried about Lili as she read, patting her hair. The child was only six-years-old, for Heaven's sake. No one understands something like that at six. But somehow, Lili seemed to understand some things that no adults ever could, _or would_.

Half way through the second time Brennan read the book, she looked up to see Booth standing in the doorway, Lachlan at his heels. She nudged Lili and nodded to the door. Lili ran up to Lachlan, who lifted her up and held her tightly, closing his eyes.

"Hey, Sweetie! What'cha been doing?" His voice had calmed within seconds of speaking to her. Brennan was amazed.

"Tempe was reading me _Sleeping Beauty_!" she said excitedly, bouncing on his hip.

"Yeah?" He stole a look at Brennan. "Thank you, Doctor Brennan." Brennan nodded, catching the double-meaning.

"You're welcome. Both of you," she said back, smiling sadly. Lachlan turned back to Lili.

"So, _Sleeping Beauty_, your favourite, kiddo!" he said excitedly.

"Yuhuh! And Tempe reads it good, too!" Booth laughed at this as their voices grew fainter, moving farther down the corridor.

It wasn't until they were alone that Brennan realized she was still holding the book. Looking at the cover, she placed it on the couch and stood up, walking over to Booth, who was watching her interestedly.

"Hey," he said, letting out a breath.

"Hey," she repeated. Booth explained.

"I had a bad feeling about him, and I'd only just met him. I called the FBI building in Charleston to see if I could get an interrogation room because I figured he'd be harder to get, but...he as good as gave himself up." He took a deep breath. "They're taking him down-town as we speak; Grace's with the paramedics. She'll be fine." Brennan nodded silently, forcing a smile.

_Screw subtlety, _he thought. "Talk to me, Bones," he almost pleaded.

"About what? I'm okay, Booth, really, I-" She stopped as Booth put his hands soothingly on her shoulders.

"You're not okay," he countered gently. "Something...that little girl, Bones. She did something to you, didn't she?" Brennan closed her eyes, brows knit, and shook her head.

"Booth, I've worked many cases; this isn't the first one that's involved children. I've done digs in Guatemala where-"

"Bones. Listen to me." As she opened her eyes, Booth inwardly prayed that Brennan would not get anthropological on him _now._ "This one, for some reason, is different, isn't it? Lili-" Booth never finished his sentence, because as soon as he said her name, Brennan's façade failed, and tears began falling down her cheeks.

He gathered her to him, and held her tightly, one hand on her back, the other caressing her hair. Surprisingly, she allowed him to continue holding her like this for minutes as she calmed herself down.

Once he heard her breathing turning back to normal, he let go of her, and framed her face with his hands, pressing his lips firmly to her forehead. Brennan gasped slightly at this, and Booth closed his eyes, savoring it. Drawing back, still holding her face, he looked her in the eyes, emotions burning, before pressing his lips to hers.

Booth had expected the kiss to confuse them, to distract them, even to completely blank their minds. Boy, was he wrong. Instead, every emotion burning within each them intensified, and they fed everything they were feeling into the kiss. Everything each of them was feeling became mixed up, poured into the other and back as their lips moved.

It was painfully affecting, and Booth had to pull away. He couldn't bring himself to take his hands away. Instead, he held her head until she opened her eyes. So many things he could have said passed through his head in that instant. Only one seemed right.

He pulled her to him again, nuzzling his face into her hair. Her arms went around him, and she laid her head against him, closing her eyes. When he spoke, he spoke quietly, solemnly into her ear.

"Let's go home, Temperance."

* * *

Okay, so, I changed my mind. This was going to be the last chapter, but I've become emotionally attatched, and therefore have decided to write another. I have serious attatchment issues... 

Love


	20. Tape It, Slimy!

**Spoilers: Last chapter!!**

**Disclaimer: Sob, sob. **I'll need chocolate to help me get over this.

**Author's Note: **Oooh!! Last chapter!!! It's the longest, so love me? Haa! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you all rock. Oh, and the 100th reviewer gets lots of imaginary-candy! And many, many Brownie Points. So, without further ado, that final, last, completing chapter of _The Child in the Playground_:

* * *

Booth and Brennan made their way downstairs, Booth's arm around her shoulders, her head resting on his. They simultaneously disentangled to assume a more _professional_ stance when they reached the bottom of the stairs, and prepared to go outside.

As soon as they stepped outside, Booth was shocked. How was it that the media could be there already, and the crime scene boys hadn't even arrived yet? He looked at Brennan, and rolled his eyes dramatically, shouting "No comment" as they made their way down the path to the police cruisers parked around the street.

Booth spoke angrily to a senior officer. "Why hasn't this area been taped off?"

The man looked at him with obvious resentment. Brennan studied him with amusement. He didn't want the FBI pushing him around, breathing down his neck, but he couldn't disobey them. He obviously had friends in high places, or else he wouldn't have this job, and he seemed to think that now he _did_ have it, no one could push him around.

"Look, I know you think you're in charge of this operation, _Agent_ Booth," - he spoke through clenched jaws - "But I assure you, this is _my_ investigation now. Thank you for all the work you've spared us." It wasn't a thanks. "This isn't officially a crime scene, that's why it's not taped off."

"Look, I don't know how you do things down here, but this area should be taped off, whether you _want_ to or not. Potentially, this is a crime scene, and I don't want the press all over _my _evidence. The crime scene guys need to be able to check this house out without the _press_ on their heels!" Booth said through his teeth.

Brennan rolled her eyes at their obvious territorial issues. She decided to help Booth out. "This area should be taped off," she said plainly, turning to face the officer in charge, who seemed to have not previously noticed her. Instead of looking outnumbered, he looked smug. Brennan narrowed her eyes at him. His expression turned into a full out grin as he looked her up and down.

Booth tensed, ready to hit the bastard. _She's mine,_ he warned inwardly. He pushed back the urge to growl at him. The officer stated to talk, still looking at Brennan, who was staring at him warningly.

"Now, now. What's a pretty little lady like you doin' hangin' 'round 'ere? You should be at home or somthin'; cooking..." Booth's eyes flicked between Brennan and the officer, trying to figure out whether to intervene or not. By Brennan's expression, he decided not. He almost changed his mind though when the officer continued.

"Or _pleasurin'_," he drawled, running his hand down Brennan's arm, again looking her up and down. Booth smiled. _Bad move, Buddy_. By the time the thought had reached his head, Brennan had flipped the officer onto the ground, her shoe resting on his chest, obviously painfully so. Booth grinned again.

Brennan looked at Booth and smiled slightly. "I don't like it when slimy people touch me." She pulled a face, then turned back to the officer pinned under her foot.

"Tape it off," Brennan said sternly, but disconcertingly quietly. The officer stared daggers at her. Brennan only smiled. Removing her foot, she walked away brusquely, leaving Booth and the officer alone.

Booth offered him a hand and the officer ignored it, staring directly at Booth, obviously pissed off. The officer flattened out his uniform then turned to leave. Booth stopped him with a steel hand on his shoulder.

"Ah, ah, ah. Now, you heard what the lady said." It wasn't a question. "Do it. Oh, one last thing." Booth leaned into the officer, so he was speaking directly in his ear. "Don't touch her again." He enunciated every word perfectly, making the officer's charade wane slightly. Booth pulled away to look him in the face. "Kapisch?"

The officer stared at him for a second before realizing that the question wasn't rhetorical. "Yes, Agent Booth," he said impatiently, trying to maintain his poise.

Booth smiled as if he hadn't just threatened the officer. "Good. Now tape it off." He turned on his heels and moved to join Brennan, leaving the officer seething.

"Nicely done, Bones!" he said cheerily as he got into the car. Brennan looked at him, obvious distaste in her expression.

"He was a creep," she said. She looked around thoughtfully at the scene carrying on outside. The crime scene team had arrived, and the house was begrudgingly being taped off by two officers. "I don't like Virginia," Brennan stated thoughtfully. She looked at Booth, recalling their earlier scene.

"Okay, I don't like _Virginians_," she smiled. Booth chuckled.

"Ready?" he asked. Brennan looked again at the scene outside, taking a deep breath. She turned back to Booth and nodded her assent, leaning back into the seat.

"You know what?" she asked, smiling slightly. Booth looked at her curious as to her tone.

"What?"

"I'm glad I don't have to drive today. I don't think I could have resisted driving over that officer." Booth looked at her, amused.

"Trust me; it took a lot of willpower _not _to." He shuddered slightly, as if recalling something disgusting. "Besides, I never would have let you drive, anyway." He looked at her smugly, and she rolled her eyes, laying her head back against the headrest. Booth watched her with a sight smile as she closed her eyes and breathed deliberately slowly, as if warding off thought.

But he knew her better. She wasn't warding them off, just controlling them. Booth looked back to the road, but not without first seeing her smile, eyes still closed.

-

About an hour into the trip, Booth noticed that Brennan was almost asleep, looking very uncomfortable sitting upright in her seat. He reached over to touch her, pulling his hand away at the last second. "Bones. Bones?" he said quietly, his eyes flashing between her and the road. Brennan opened her eyes sleepily.

"What, Booth? Did something happen?" She looked around, slightly worried. Booth laughed quietly.

"No, Bones. It's just...you looked uncomfortable...like that, so I thought you might like to go lay in the back seat, instead. Just to be more comfortable," Booth added quickly. Brennan gave him a strange look, then rolled her eyes and lay back against the headrest, closing them. It surprised him when she grabbed his free hand and squeezed it once, letting it go.

Booth smiled triumphantly, thankful that her eyes were still closed. He resisted the urge to dance, albeit difficultly.

-

Brennan and Booth arrived at the lab just before the end of the workday. Booth smiled, and winced, as he remembered what they had been doing at five thirty the night before. _Puffins_, he thought dryly. _What the hell?_

Just before they walked in the door, Brennan stopped him, turning to face him, looking at him seriously. Booth raised his eyebrows in question, cocking his head slightly. Brennan had trouble concentrating on what she was about to say. She shook her head, trying to clear it; or at the very least unfocus her eyes.

She looked at him again; he still looked...irresistible. "Booth."

"Yes," Booth stated back, looking slightly worried. Brennan opened her mouth, only to shut it again. "Are you alright?" Booth asked, amusedly putting his hand to her head. Brennan's eyes closed, despite her attempt at nonchalance.

"Don't...Not a word to Angela," she said as sternly as she could in her current state. Booth grinned cheekily.

"About what?" Brennan looked at him and smiled, meaning to thank him, when he moved his hand from her forehead to her chin, cupping it and pulling her closer. "About this?" he asked teasingly, his breath playing with hers.

Brennan stuttered an affirmation, and forced herself to open her eyes. That was a big mistake. When she opened her eyes, she was staring straight into Booth's; his eyes were smoldering. Her words caught in her throat. Booth smiled.

"Not a word," he stated, leaning over and pushing the door open. "After you." Brennan looked on in stunned silence for a few seconds then walked into the building, struggling to regain her composure.

Of course, the first person they ran into was Angela. Or, rather, ran into them. She hugged them both, grinning. "Oh my God, I'm so happy you're back! The thing was all over the news. That father did it? Geez..." Angela was silent for a second, then grabbed Brennan and hugged her again. Brennan made an 'oomph' sound, and Booth laughed, getting a glare from Brennan.

Angela turned to Booth again, and stared at him. Booth shook his head and Brennan shot them both confused looks, which went completely unnoticed by the two, who were busy having some sort of silent conversation. Really, they were staring each other down. Angela was the first to speak.

"You didn't." It was half question, half statement. Booth looked at her, irked.

"No, Angela. I do things on my own time. Besides, it isn't just _my_ time we're playing with, here, now, is it?" Booth continued staring at her.

"Fine. I'll grant you that. But get it together. Soon!" Angela finished, exasperated. Brennan still looked confused. She turned to Booth.

"Booth, what are you talking about?"

"Yeah, sure, just ask _Booth_! Typical. You know, Booth, it's saying something when she asks _you_ instead of her best friend." Angela nodded haughtily, smiling suggestively.

Brennan shot her a look. "That's why I don't ask you, Ange. No offence, but your answers never make logical sense...Well, at least not immediately." Booth and Angela simply looked at Brennan, neither saying a word.

They were saved, though, when Hodgins, Zach and Cam walked over to join them. Cam hugged Booth, and he smiled at her uncomfortably. Hodgins offered Booth a high five, and Booth looked at him like he was crazy. Zach stood watching it all looking awkward. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

"Welcome back, Doctor Brennan," was what he settled with. Brennan smiled; she'd always liked Zach. She thought of him almost as a younger brother.

"Thanks, Zach. Good work, too. You helped catch this guy," she said proudly, meaning it. Zach beamed, and Booth patted his shoulder, nodding. _Open palm!_ Zach thought excitedly.

The group chatted for a few minutes, laughing, describing what Booth and Brennan had missed when the team had tried out their shoe-size-theory. Angela laughed. "No, really, it was _almost _as gross as the pig-in-the-wood-chipper thing!" she exclaimed, pulling a face. Hodgins patted her on the shoulder, and Cam looked at them all, confused, sure she was missing some in-joke.

Booth shot a quick look at Brennan, who was laughing with the rest of the Squints. He didn't want to pull her away from her friends, but he couldn't help himself. "Bones," he called quietly, nodding towards the outer hallway, which was blocked off from the rest of the lab. She looked at him strangely, then back at the group. _They'll live without me,_ Brennan thought. They all looked pretty absorbed in their conversation, anyway, and Brennan had no idea what they were talking about.

She followed Booth into the hallway. She looked at him warily, but half-smiling. "What?"

Booth didn't trust himself to answer, so instead he shot one last glance at the rest of the Squints then grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. Brennan looked at him, obviously conflicted. Booth smiled. He could change that. He grazed his lips across hers, like he had on the couch the morning before.

It was just as effective. Her breath caught and her eyes closed. Booth pulled away. _Changed,_ he thought, struggling to control himself.

Brennan opened her eyes, confused as to why Booth had stopped. She watched him study her, completely oblivious that she had noticed. When his eyes met hers, they were smoldering again, and Brennan raised a hand to his chest, placing it there cautiously. Booth put his hand over hers, and leaned in.

Angela looked over into the corridor. It had not gone unnoticed by her that they had left. She saw Booth do something that could only be construed as un-partner-ly, and she stifled a squeal, instead settling for a huge grin, torn between watching the 'interaction' and giving them privacy. Deciding both would be rather frustrating, she politely excused herself and made her way back to her office, whispering something most likely sexual in Hodgins' ear.

He followed her instantly. Cam and Zach were suddenly left alone, staring at each other wordlessly. "Goodnight," they both said in unison, turning around and leaving in opposite directions.

Booth and Brennan forced themselves apart, struggling to control their breathing, still barely an inch apart. Booth's hands were tangled in her hair, not letting her move more than he deemed necessary. He flicked a look at the lab, laughing when he noticed that the Squints were all gone. "How long have we been here?" he asked breathlessly. Brennan shrugged.

"Not long enough," she replied, smiling mischievously. Booth liked this side of her. She turned to look in the direction he was, smiling, too, when she saw that everyone was gone. She _didn't_, however, seem to find it as attention-grabbing as Booth did, and she turned back to face him, putting a hand on his face, turning his gaze back to her. She smiled again, moving in to capture his lips with hers.

He pulled her closer, growling unconsciously as she did something _very_ un-partner-ly.

Oh, yes, he _definitely_ liked this side of her.

* * *

Okay, I'm about to have an emotional breakdown. Bath and tea sound like a good idea. I'll try not to, you know, sink into depression.

Anywho, my issues aside: What do you think? Is it an acceptable final chapter?


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